Death Is Not the End
by The Freelancer Collaboration
Summary: In this final installment of a Hunger-Games based trilogy, former tributes and victors from the worlds of both Marvel and DC are in the fight for their lives after declaring revolution from the Capitol. Thanos may have fallen, but Hydra rose up in his place, and they mean to rule the world by any means, even if they have to use our heroes to do it.
1. Chapter 1: Ground Level

**Editor's Notes: Welcome, fellow authors, fans, and lurkers to the third and final installment to our collaborative work.** _ **In The End, You Always Kneel**_ **and the beginning of** _ **When Blood Calls For Blood**_ **were the results of Nickenny's huge collaborative Marvel/Hunger Games crossover event based on a 24 authors/24 tributes writing arrangement between oh, so many talented writers and his subsequent work finding DC writers for the second installment,** _ **When Blood Calls For Blood**_ **, which added our DC characters for an exciting Quarter Quell after the reveal at the end of ITEYAK that the universes were connected.**

 **Nickenny has since had to bow out, so the story has been subsequently piloted and navigated by robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl - who will both be reprising their writing and their navigation in this new and final installment of this trilogy.**

 **In that vein, we'd like to jump right in! Go catch up with the other two stories if you haven't yet, as** _ **both**_ **of those installments have plots, characters, and loose story threads all to be tied up in this concluding work!**

 **In lieu of what has become the 'traditional' Capitol-driven intro, since the Capitol is kaput, we'd like to bring you directly into where it really matters. On the ground. In the thick of our post-revolution world. And who better to show us the major impact that the assassination of Thanos has had on the outer districts than someone** _ **intimately**_ **familiar with working outside of those confines?**

 **And since this is a collaborative work, what better way to start out than with viewpoints from** _ **both**_ **Marvel and DC? So, we're bringing you a peek at District Twelve with one of our original 24 authors, robbiepoo2341, as well as one of our newer DC authors in pekuxumi.**

 **Expect different things from this final installment of the series - including many chapters that involve more than one viewpoint. It's** _ **highly**_ **recommended that you read the first two Installments before starting this one. They are easy to find - right there on The Freelancer Collaborations's profile - and it will keep you from being lost on how these very different worlds have meshed. Our update schedule will run (initially) as it did for WBCFB - updating on Tuesdays and Fridays, though we may pick up speed as the story comes to a close and our writers are done with everything but editing ;)**

 **Without any further ado… let's do this thing!**

* * *

 **Chapter One - Ground Level**

 **America Chavez**

 **District Twelve, SHIELD Compound**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

When the revolution had kicked off, America had to admit, she hadn't actually noticed it.

See, the problem with announcing the revolution over broadcast was that SHIELD assumed that everyone would be glued to the TV watching the slaughter. And while, _technically_ , everyone in Marvel was _supposed_ to watch the Games… America had better things to do.

More specifically, she had Capitol idiots to run out of her district.

Don't think she hadn't noticed the Capitol forces massing out beyond the borders of the district itself. That was her turf — that was where she and her crew had always gone hunting or even just slipped out to get away from the misery of Twelve for a while. She knew every inch of that forest, and she had known as soon as the first transports started to arrive a few days ago.

At first, America had only kept an eye on them from passing curiosity. More of a "what is the Capitol doing _now_ " kind of standpoint. But when it became clear that people were moving in, that there were SHIELD agents deciding to make her crew's turf their home? America knew she needed to step in.

So, she had been watching the place for a while now as more and more people arrived, though she hadn't had the context for it until Nate sent Tommy to track her down and tell her what had been broadcast, what Nick Fury had done, what call to arms was being blasted over the airwaves.

And that gave the black-clad operatives pouring into the Savage Lands a whole new context.

Now, instead of wondering what the heck the Capitol was doing in Twelve, America was feeling actually pretty smug. Obviously, the Capitol and SHIELD thought that they could hide out here and cause mayhem, fight their war for domination and remain untouched outside the smallest district in Marvel.

No one cared about Twelve, right? So why would they look for an army here?

But the thing that the Capitol clearly hadn't counted on was that America and her crew? They operated under the same assumptions. No one looked too closely at Twelve. No one paid attention to what they were up to. No one, that is, except the people that America and her boys screwed with. Sentinels, corrupt merchants — whoever needed an attitude adjustment, they got it.

These Capitol creeps wouldn't be any different. The real trick would be getting close enough to start causing problems and still get away in a blink like America's group always did.

Which was why America was camped out where she was, watching the SHIELD agents go in and out through narrowed eyes. These were the same people who orchestrated the Games, and they expected the rest of the districts to just fall in line? Sure, Thanos was gone now, but America wasn't about to line up behind the next tyrant, either. She'd much rather fight to be left _alone_.

She was still watching one of the exits — she rotated which ones periodically, and the rest of her team was in the rotation, too — when she saw a couple black-clad figures headed out and switched her focus to them.

Might as well see what kind of mischief they were hoping to get up to so she could properly gloat when she ruined it for them, after all.

She crept closer, perfectly quiet in the forest that was more familiar to her than anywhere within the district proper, then paused when she realized… she _recognized_ one of the people.

The last time she had seen Logan had been at his victory tour, when she had tried to give him the best nonverbal cue that she could that she didn't believe the crap the Capitol was peddling about him and Kate. That she knew her best friend better than that. That at least as far as she was concerned, she wasn't going to let them tarnish her best friend's memory _or_ his reputation.

And now here he was at this SHIELD base...

America frowned. It hadn't occurred to her to wonder what SHIELD had done with the victors or the girls that had been at the end of the Games, because she hadn't cared — until one of them was in front of her, that is. And then she realized that the victors had been trapped in the Capitol when it had all gone down.

She wondered how many other victors the Capitol had locked away in there.

Before she had even fully made the decision, her feet were already moving, and she made her way down to where Logan was talking with someone else who had his back to her. Tall and skinny and blonde—

 _Wait_.

America _knew_ that face. That idiot with a heart that was too soft for the Games that Kate had teamed up with last year.

That was impossible, wasn't it?

All at once, America abandoned any attempt at being sneaky and simply crashed through the last few steps to announce her presence with a loud, "What the hell?"

Logan turned her way and paused. "No one's supposed to be down here," he said, stopping what he was doing and almost blocking what he was working on.

"Funny how that works," America said dryly. "When did they move you down here?"

"Ah … not too long ago," he admitted.

"No duh," America said. "I know they've been prepping this site for ages, and you were in the Capitol until recently. I want to know when they took the victors out and how many I need to rescue. We only have so much space, y'know."

"The ones that wanted out got out with us," Logan said. "No rescue needed."

America folded her arms across her chest. "Uh-huh," she said before she spun on her heel toward Clint. "And what's up with you? What, you want to look like a dead guy? You his brother? Please tell me you're his brother, or I'm going to have to rearrange all that plastic surgery."

Clint held up his hands quickly. "Hey, no rearranging," he said, then glanced toward Logan. "It's … okay, so it's a long story. Mostly involving me not being dead, thanks." He waved with the tips of his fingers. "Clint Barton. And you are?"

"The Queen of Sheba." America raised an eyebrow at him. "No, really. Who are you?"

"Clint Barton," he said, then smirked and bowed at the waist. "Your Majesty."

"Shut up." America looked between the two of them before finally she gestured at Clint and looked to Logan. "Okay. I give up. What the hell?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"These are my woods, Seven," America said.

Logan let his shoulders drop. "The name's Logan."

"America Chavez," she said. "Saw you at the tour, but it's nice to be properly introduced, yeah?"

He nodded and stepped forward to offer her his hand. "Wasn't my idea to come and screw up your woods."

That finally had her smirking as she shook his hand. "So, what's the story here? You moving in with a legion of people wearing the faces of the dead? What's that supposed to be, psychological warfare? Capitol mutts?"

He narrowed his eyes for a moment at that, thinking over the right way to answer. "More like back from the dead."

America held his gaze for a good, long time, and when it was abundantly clear that he wasn't lying, she swore as she turned back to Clint, who grinned and waved again. "No way," she said at last.

"If you keep an eye on the broadcasts, it'll all be crystal clear over the next few weeks."

"Don't watch 'em," America said, waving a hand. "I don't want the Capitol-edited story."

"Neither do I," Logan said. "Unedited stuff is going out now."

America let out a breath and then looked Clint over. "Okay, but please tell me they brought back more than my best friend's idiot Games partner."

"Hurtful," Clint said.

"They brought quite a few back," Logan said slowly. He turned to look at Clint for a moment. "Not sure who all _is_ back, all things considered."

"Anyone from Twelve?" America asked carefully. "I know we're the boondocks, but come on."

"Yeah, a few," Logan said. "If you want into the rebellion, it won't be long before they're in the middle with everyone."

"Pretty words, _chico_ — now where's Kate?" America asked. "I'm gonna kiss her full on the mouth and then slap her for making me wait around while she's been _alive_."

"Cassie's inside," he said, trying to reroute her.

America grinned. "No way," she said. "That's perfect! I thought she might be too young and sweet for anyone to take notice…"

"She was the youngest until last year."

"Great!" America clapped her hands together and then rubbed them. "So, Cassie's here, Kate's… what, wrapped up in her beau? They were _sickly_ in the Games, I swear."

Logan shook his head at that. "Kate's not here."

"Yeah, but they brought her back, right?" America said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to indicate Clint. "If they brought _him_ back—"

"Hey." Clint shook his head. "What have you got against me?"

"Just the fact that you're a shoddy replacement for my best friend," America said easily.

"SHIELD didn't bring her back," Logan said, which got America to stop fully and turn his way. "But we're gonna get her back from the guys that did."

"Wait." America held her hands up in a time-out signal. "Run that by me again."

"You heard me fine," Logan said. "You really should listen to the news, Chavez. You might learn somethin'."

"I'd rather keep my district fed," America said. "Priorities."

"That shouldn't be as much of a problem," Logan said. "Nine and Eleven are sending resources. Workin' on Ten."

America's eyebrows rose at that, and she smirked lightly. "Great. Frees me up to help you boys," she said, gesturing between them. "No one knows Kate better than me, and if she's in trouble, I want in."

"No offense, but we're going after trained assassins," Logan said.

"No offense, but I wasn't asking permission."

Logan let out a breath, trying to keep his temper in check. "I promised Black Bolt I wasn't gonna draw off his district any more than was necessary."

"Well isn't that nice for you. He's not my boss. Let's go," America said, and Clint was snickering by that point, clearly entertained.

Logan grabbed her arm as she passed and pulled her to a stop. "You're not going anywhere without the right gear if you're gonna be pigheaded about it."

"Fine," she said, her chin tipped up. "What, you want me to wear blue?"

"Black," Logan countered. "And some armor. Barton can show you where the good stuff is."

America turned to face Clint and stick her finger in his face. "I don't do dress-up. Or outfits. Fair warning."

"Nothing like that," Clint promised. "Just giving ourselves a little more defense. The bad guys have guns, Chavez. And I've been told I'm not getting brought back from the dead anymore, so…"

America watched Clint for a long moment before she finally, slowly, nodded. "Alright. Show me what you got." She paused. "The _gear_. Or any cute girls you have… I've been a little light on eye candy lately…"

"Give her the non-lethal gun," Logan called out as he set up his gear.

"What?" America called back. "Worried I'll shoot you?"

"I wanna interrogate anyone we get a hold of," Logan replied without turning her way.

"Oh, fine, but if anyone's hurt Kate, I'll find a way to kill them anyway — after they sing," she promised.

"Take a number," Logan said dryly.

"Known her longer. I get top spot."

"She shot me. I'm takin' it anyhow," he countered.

But that had America freezing before she spun to face him fully. "You're gonna have to explain that a little better, _chico_ , before I decide to follow her lead."

"What do you need to know?" Logan asked, leaning on the table that had the gear laid out on it. "She killed Fury, then she shot me." He tapped his shoulder where the arrow had actually pierced the armor.

"Fury ran the Games," America pointed out. "You… you were an ally. That doesn't make sense."

"That's what I've been saying," Clint said. "Along with just about everyone that knew her."

"There's a few that didn't come back right in the head," Logan said. "And a few that got on the wrong side of Fury's daughter. I think Kate might be one of them that Fury didn't have access to."

America nodded slowly and then turned to Clint. "So you're pawns, then," she said.

"You know, I'm starting to wonder how Katie had such a mean best friend," Clint said, shaking his head at her. Then, he paused. "But… it's not… an entirely … yeah, you're pretty spot-on."

"Not anymore," Logan said. "Structure's changed."

"For the better," Clint promised before America could argue. "New director actually listens to us." He tipped his head toward Logan, and America's head dipped forward as she stared at him.

"You took over for Fury?" she asked. "Why?"

"Fury gave it to me," Logan said. "Barely got through it before he kicked it."

"Huh." America considered Logan for a long time before she went back to the gear. "Alright. Kate liked you, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt for now."

"Not at the end she didn't," Logan said, not wanting to hide anything.

America waved her hand. "Yeah, when she thought you were a raving, murdering back-stabber. Doesn't count," she said. "But if she's still stuck on killing you when we get her back, I'll talk to her. Can't let her be _that_ wrong, or she'll never forgive herself."

"Somehow, I doubt your little slumber party'll be enough to sway her," Logan said. "And I don't care if she hates me. It's fine."

"Heartless," America said as she shook out her hair. "Too bad. I thought your team was great for her. The whole group." She stretched out her arms, knuckles cracking. "We'll talk about that when we get back, though. Time's wasting. Let's _go_."

"Waiting on you to get your gear together," Logan said.

When America looked like she might say something else, Clint took her arm. "C'mon. I'll show you where you can change before you two start a civil war in Twelve," he said.

America narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, but she let him lead her down anyway. But only because she didn't actually know where to go.

* * *

 **Harper Row**

 **District Twelve, SHIELD Compound**

 **Written by pekuxumi**

* * *

The discrepancy between mind and body after dying was a pain in the ass. As Harper walked through the corridors, halfheartedly hoping that she was heading in the right direction, she suppressed the need to _limp_. Her leg was fine. She wasn't in pain. But her brain kept showing her the weird image of an axe splitting her shin and of blood oozing out of the wound.

More than once, she had pulled up her pants leg and checked for a wound or a scar or at least some sort of mark, but there was nothing but the nagging feeling that those last difficult and painful steps she had taken in the arena back then were final.

Sometimes, when she swallowed, she tasted blood and panicked when her breath hitched in her throat. But that was all in her imagination as well, a symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder, or, as she preferred to call it, the very normal reaction to being slaughtered for no good reason and waking up just to be part of a revolution.

Not that Harper wanted to complain. Being alive was nice, though scary, and the prospect of shaping the future of Marvel was a fine goal. Harper just wished that SHIELD had found a way to do it with less traumatized children like Harper, who didn't know whether seeing Raven at the end of a corridor was her bad conscience acting up or reality.

And now she was set up to help the communications team, a bunch of techies tasked with telling Marvel what was real or not, what had been faked and what had not. The irony was just up her alley.

They had started with the really big revelations, the stories that the Capitol had twisted over the course of the Games in previous years. The one that still gave her nightmares was the tape that the Capitol had sent to Logan, the one that Sabretooth recorded detailing everything he had done to his female tributes and promising to do the same to Kate Bishop. The Capitol had been turning a blind eye to rape and sadism, and SHIELD wanted the world to know what exactly they were fighting back against.

And then, to add to the nightmare fuel, Bobbi Morse clinically detailing what was expected of the victors that _did_ survive was enough to give anyone bad dreams.

If raping teenagers wasn't enough to stir up revolutionary anger, then a clear and precise account of how well the Capitol lied about their "random" tribute picks would wake them up to the danger _their own children_ had been in at any moment.

In her head, Harper was going through her text. They were about to film her as she told her story, did her part to reveal the story of the Games. She was going to tell all the districts how the glorious Quarter Quell tributes had been picked.

All the randomness had been a lie up until the Quarter Quells — the Capitol had always chosen the tributes they saw as potential threats. Harper was about to give a detailed account of how choosing Ororo Munroe was far from random ... and Loki, and Cassie Lang... And then Harper would make the cut to her Games, to the tributes who had been thrown into the arena with her. Jack and Harley? Too much beyond the Capitol's control; throw them in. Diana and Kaldur? Let's decimate all the powerful families in Four. Dick and Helena? Well, there can't be a rich, powerful family in Seven without heirs, right?

As she thought about it, Harper got mad all over again.

But SHIELD promised another approach, full disclosure. Harper, who would rather shoot off her mouth than keep secrets, was just the right person to help set up the technical basis of a free world. Even though her software knowledge was basic, the rules of programming came easily to her, and she was able to work with the other techies on the hardware that carried their weird codes.

She had been surprised when they told her that she was about to go in front of the camera as well. First, Harper had thought about Cullen and Stephanie and had been elated; they would finally learn what had happened to her. Then, her new task had involved leaving the safe haven of engineering to delve deeper into the corridors and rooms of SHIELD's facility... and an ever-growing paranoia of running into someone nagged in the back of her head.

If she was back, other tributes were back as well. Obviously. She hadn't seen anyone yet, but each turn around a corner had her hitching her breath, because what if she ran right into John Constantine? Diana? What would they even do? Apologize? Pick up where they left? Harper still didn't appreciate being split in half by an axe, and Diana probably still wasn't happy about that kick into the groin (which, Harper hoped, still hurt).

Was Caitlin back? And _Jade_! Oh, Harper longed to see Jade again. Weird how that little time, mostly filled with arguing with the tight-lipped girl from Ten, had wielded her a place into Harper's heart.

She was fairly certain that SHIELD wouldn't bring Harvey back. At least, she hoped not. He had been crazy ... or was the mind something they healed just as quick as the body? Harper guessed not, not after she started to phantom-limp every time she thought about running into Diana and John.

And then, of course ... Kaldur. He _was_ back with SHIELD, but he had been in the field when the revolution hit. Harper didn't know how to feel about that _at all_. She wanted to tell him the truth desperately, to explain what had happened, but if he were to look at her with that expression ... Harper wouldn't be able to cope with it.

As she walked into the room of the recording, Sabretooth's tape was shown to Marvel again as a warm-up and a reminder. SHIELD wasn't going let anyone forget. Harper nodded toward the staff, who ushered her to her spot. When the recap ended, she looked up, and the red dot on the camera came on. It reminded her of the betrayal in Kaldur's eyes, and it gave her strength to continue with the gruesome stories she had to keep telling. Little by little, she would approach her own Quarter Quell story, and then Kaldur would understand.

"So, remember what I told you about Ororo and Loki the last time? Let's continue with another much too young tribute. Thea Queen, anyone? Or maybe we should start with Rachel Roth, who was unfortunate enough to be someone's _daughter_..."


	2. Chapter 2: Fractured

**(A/N): And we're back with our Friday update! This time, let's check on someone a little closer to the Hydra side of things, with Sinthea Schmidt, written as always by the talented Silmarilz1701!**

 **Thank you as always to our writers who continue to be the best reviewers. We're so psyched that you're psyched!**

* * *

 **Chapter Two - Fractured**

 **The Capitol**

 **Sinthea Schmidt, Formerly of District Six**

 **Written by Silmarilz1701**

* * *

" _In war, you can only be killed once, but in politics, many times." - Winston Churchill_

* * *

Sin could feel the earth beneath her feet as she dashed onward, pulling a confused Kate behind her. She trusted Natasha would be able to handle herself, but with Kate in the state she was in, the little purple spitfire was more likely to walk into combat by herself than take the smart route. She dodged a bullet from a SHIELD operative to her right, ducking into a small overhang of a building with two columns. She pushed Kate roughly behind her and peeked out from behind the column, sending a bullet straight into the SHIELD agent's head.

Sinthea ducked back behind the column and dropped to a knee beside Kate. "Kate, look at me!"

"I have to kill him!" Kate's face was set in a dangerously angry frown.

Sinthea could hear a strange indecision in her voice. Personally, Sin had nothing against Logan Howlett. She'd never interacted with him in their Games, and her few moments with him in the Capitol had been tolerable. But he was the enemy, one of Fury's prize pets. So if she had the chance, she would kill him too, for the glory of Hydra.

 _No_ , Sin mused, _for my own glory, my own advancement. Or perhaps for Viper. Nothing that will benefit my fath- the Red Skull._

A blast resounded nearby, and both girls covered their heads without even thinking. Sin seethed in anger, remembering how easy it had been to get to this position earlier thanks to Viper's intel. But there had been no extraction plan, and ever since their attack on Fury, the area had been swarming with SHIELD agents. As she poked her head around the corner, she caught sight of two more lackeys of SHIELD and took them out quickly, grabbing Kate's arm and hoisting her up.

"Come on, Kate," Sinthea muttered. "We have to go."

Kate gasped for breath, choking back a sob. "You can't tell Hydra!"

"About Kurt?" Sinthea paused to look at her for a second. "I won't. But we have to keep moving!" She raised her gun and took out another SHIELD agent as they rounded a corner. She had a vague idea of where Viper's hideout was, having seen maps of the Capitol in mission briefings. Sin hoped Natasha had picked up as much.

"Where's Nat?" Kate asked. "She'll tell Kilgrave, Sin. She has to make a report. She doesn't know. She'll—"

"She won't say anything," Sin grunted, dropping her hold on Kate to pick up two fallen pistols off a SHIELD agent and disregarding her own in favor of these with more bullets.

"But—"

"But nothing, Kate." Sin spun to face Kate and pushed her against a building wall to keep them in some cover. Distant explosions caused the ground to rumble, and a plume of smoke rose nearby. "I will protect you, Kate. I promise. We'll figure out what to do. Viper can help; we just have to figure out how to tell her what we want to tell her."

Kate nodded, muttering something that Sin couldn't catch as she led out ahead. They crept quietly along the building facades, stepping over shattered glass. Sinthea groaned inwardly at how loud their steps sounded on the shards. But there wasn't much else they could do; Sin could hear fighting a block over, so staying on this wall was imperative.

As they reached the edge of the block, the shrieks and shouts sounded much louder. Sinthea paused, breathing deeply, before turning to Kate. "Listen, you stay right behind me, understand?"

"I can fight," Kate protested, grabbing her bow off her back and notching an arrow.

"No. Your hands are shaking too much, Kate. You will stay behind me, understood?" Sin frowned. "I want to keep you safe. After all, you won't be much use to Hydra if you're dead."

Sin didn't wait for Kate to agree, stepping out into the cross street and rushing to the far building. Bullets sprayed not twenty feet from her, but whether they were SHIELD's or Hydra's, she couldn't tell. Bullets were bullets, and friendly fire was just as deadly as enemy fire. She raised her pistol and shot the first black-armored agent to come into view. The green guys, her guys, continued laying down suppression fire with automatics as she and Kate rushed across to them.

"Where's Lady Hydra?" Sin demanded of the Hydra commander on the field. She grabbed him and shook him as he hesitated for a moment, looking around at his men. "Tell me where she is. That's an order! Hail Hydra," she added after a second or two.

He nodded, snapping back into focus. He glanced at Sin and Kate before pointing off into the distance. "Lady Hydra will be in her usual location."

"How far?" Sin shouted over the din of the constant bullet streams.

He shrugged. "Thirty minutes by foot; some spots are heavy fire areas!"

"Is there a jet or a transport nearby?"

"Negative."

She sighed and nodded, turning back to Kate, who had mentally drifted off again, so Sin grabbed her and shook her. "Kate. Kate!"

"Sin," she muttered. "It was him, it was Kurt. But Logan hurt him…"

Sinthea nodded and pulled her to a corner of the building in the direction they needed to go. "We all died, remember?"

"Yes. Right. And then Hydra brought us back. Compliance will…." She frowned and shook her head.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sinthea shook her head. _Damn Kilgrave and Whitehall and all of the men at Hydra. Damn them all. I hope this war gets all of them killed._

Sin nodded to Kate. "Here's the plan. We're going to make it to Viper's and wait for Natasha. Once Nat gets there, we'll make another plan. And another, until we're all safely given new orders. Follow me."

Once again, Sinthea didn't wait for a confirmation from her friend before moving. A great rumble sounded nearby, but it didn't echoe like the bombs or grenades common in the firefights. Instead, it rumbled steadily on, without stopping and without variation. As they went through the city, hugging the walls, Sin finally saw it.

In the center of a one time traffic circle, a massive fountain had stood. But the fountain had broken, and the water shot out rapidly, filling the area a few inches deep. They picked their way carefully through the dirty water, listening to the grating melody of machine gun fire and grenade explosions, which sounded in their own twisted way like drum beats.

Suddenly Sinthea heard the slightest sound of metal hitting the water. She looked over and saw a spherical device in the shallows and nearly froze in terror. After a pause, she rammed into Kate and shoved her away, following quickly. But the grenade exploded beside them, and Sin lost her hearing except for a loud, constant ringing. Water and rocks sprayed up around them, soaking Sin. She shouted, but she couldn't even hear herself.

She tried to get the mess out of her eyes, choking on the smoke, dust, and water, but could barely make herself move because of the pain of being thrown. She looked over at Kate, who had somehow managed to scoot away and sit up but looked as disoriented as Sin felt.

Finally, the ringing began to subside. Still the noises were muffled, but Sin thought she could make out two distinct voices, one talking much more than the other. She rolled herself onto her back, confident that since she wasn't dead yet, whoever had tried to kill them now was either dead or gone.

Another redhead wearing black offered her a hand, and Sin smiled. She took it and hoisted herself up, staggering slightly before straightening up. Natasha said something, but Sin shook her head.

"I can't make out what you're saying," Sinthea told her, hoping it came out the way she intended. Since she saw Natasha nod, she assumed it had.

Natasha tended to Kate, whose forehead had a scrape, while Sinthea scrambled around for weapons. Her guns had been lost in the explosion. She found nothing, which worried her. But when at last her hearing returned to normal, she rounded on her allies and sighed.

"I'm weaponless."

Natasha turned around and tossed her a pistol. "I picked up a few on my way."

"So did I," Sin replied quickly. "Good thing you didn't get hit by a grenade."

"Where would you be then?" Natasha agreed with a smirk. Then she turned to Kate. "Are you ready?"

Kate nodded but didn't speak, adding to Sin's worry. But together, they led the way, Natasha taking up the lead and Sin guarding the rear. They made their way between overhangs and alleyways, keeping their heads down and eyes up. For a long while, no one stirred; only the small beat of their footsteps against concrete made any noise. But then they reached an area of heavy fire.

A crash sounded as a spray of pulverized concrete exploded into the air. Instantly, Natasha, Kate, and Sin dove into cover behind the Hydra operatives nearby. They kept their heads down. Sin looked around, trying to figure out where the enemy was.

"Left, twenty five feet," Natasha told her.

Sin turned to the men of Hydra. "Give us suppression fire on our mark."

"Grenade?" Natasha looked around for one.

Sin nodded, grabbing two of the explosives from a nearby agent. She looked closely at Natasha, and together, the girls counted down. At 'one,' Sin lobbed one of the grenades over in the direction Natasha had pointed. As soon as it went off, both Sinthea and Natasha rose with the sound of machine gun fire from their allies, running to the next point of cover. From there, they sent one more grenade flying and rushed the enemy line.

When the dust settled, Natasha and Sin went to retrieve Kate. She looked a little worse for wear, still with the same conflicted expression on her face. But they grabbed her and kept going. Viper's nest was nearby.

Sin took point, leading them out as they skirted the streets as best they could. At last, they recognized the marble steps of The Princess Bar. Sin noted that some of the windows had been blown out, but overall, the bar had escaped the majority of the fighting. Natasha guided Kate as Sinthea approached the double doors. She raised her gun and slowly opened them.

They slipped inside. Sin secretly relished in the calm that this safehouse offered. She smiled to herself and then turned to Kate. "I'm sure Viper will be here soon."

The click of heels against marble sounded behind them. Natasha and Kate, both facing the stairwell, instantly stiffened. Sin turned.

"Ah, girls, it is so very good to see you back here," Viper cooed. "You bring good news, I hope? Has our little problem been taken care of?"

Sinthea smiled. "Yes. Fury is dead."

"Then my plan went off without a hitch? Tell me he suffered at least a little bit. He deserved it."

Sin resisted the urge to glance sidelong at Kate. Looking right at Viper, she nodded. "Yes."

"I see." Viper tilted her head and sent her calculated gaze toward Kate. "Anything you'd like to share, my dear?"

Sin hesitated. "Our next assignment?"

"Now, now, darlings. Don't be in such a rush when we're having such a good time together. I still have a few questions for you. Mainly for our lovely little Hawkeye." Viper's eyes narrowed as she turned from Kate to Sin. "I believe you've left out some vital information that I had to hear from my guards. Something about a victor that I have an interest in. You should know him. You were all in the same year … Logan."

Kate immediately became rigid. "He did… He did something to..."

Viper's eyes narrowed to slits as she turned toward Kate. "You've made things a bit more difficult for me, Katherine." Without taking her gaze from Kate, she continued, "Tell me, Sinthea, were you going to _tell me_ that your _sister_ tried to kill Logan Howlett? Even after I'd asked you to be sure he wasn't harmed?"

"He's an enemy," Natasha pointed out, folding her arms across her chest defiantly. "And he got away. We didn't see the need to inform you."

Viper stalked closer and gently tipped Kate's chin up, tuning her head from one side to the other, examining her closely, like a sculptor looks at one of her creations.

"Zebediah Kilgrave was your handler?" Viper turned from Kate to Sin. "Was he not?"

Seething, Sinthea nodded. She watched as Viper composed herself, but clearly, she was as furious as Sinthea had been when she'd seen Kilgrave's methods. And yet Sin wasn't sure it was for a good cause with Viper.

"Katherine, you will not touch Logan again, is that understood?" Viper ordered Kate and then the others. "Logan is _not_ a target. If you see him again, I fully expect you to _capture_ him and bring him to _me_."

But Kate, still somewhat loopy, refused to acknowledge Viper's command. She glared. "I have to kill him."

Sin jumped in as Viper rounded on the girl. "We'll keep her from doing anything, Lady Hydra."

Viper watched them all carefully. "Perhaps … it would be better if our little Hawkeye spent some time with Kilgrave _after_ I set him straight."

Sin nearly gasped but restrained herself. "I assure you, Lady Hydra. I can keep Kate in line. Trust me; that won't be necessary."

Viper turned her full focus to Sin, the corner of her mouth quirking upward. "Then _you_ can carry the responsibility. I want him brought to me whole and as unharmed as possible."

"Of course." Sin nodded, but inside, she was seething. "We will not fail you."

"I should hope not," Viper said. "I'm not nearly as tolerant as your father when it comes to failure."

Sin did not respond right away, taking a moment to calm herself. She forced a smile. "Of course, not, madame."

Viper watched them still for a moment as she slid toward what amounted to a throne. "I'll be watching for any further missteps, I'm not so foolish as to believe you'll have another shot at Logan any time soon. He was one of Fury's favorites, after all," Viper said. "I'm sure he'll be well protected. If you happen to come across him … while you're going down my list …" She waved a hand at one of her guards, who quickly stepped forward with a file folder to hand to Sin. "These are some of the names of those we know managed to slip out of the attack. They are enemies of Hydra. Enemies of myself personally. Simply put, they need to die. Just remember that Logan belongs to _me_."

Sin took the folder and opened it to the front. Werner Von Strucker was the first name to pop out at her. She smirked ever so slightly before lifting her gaze toward Viper. "Any of these?"

Viper was watching her reaction with a sedate sort of expression on her face. "Any at all. Though … there's no need to _rush off_. I'm sure you're all tuckered out after all that excitement …"

Sin smiled graciously, glancing at the ever-observant Natasha. "We are trained to work even when 'tuckered out'. This is what we enjoy. I'm afraid we'd best get going."

Viper's eyes narrowed for only an instant as her gaze flicked toward Kate, then back to Sin. "Suit yourself. I'll expect reports on your progress."

Sin nodded but didn't respond. She took Kate's arm and guided her toward the door quickly. Natasha followed close behind after another split second of staring at Viper and her guards. Together, they went out into the war-torn street and ducked into an abandoned building a few blocks away to make their plans.

The echoing drum beats of war resounded around them constantly, to the point where it nearly became background noise. Sin gestured for Natasha to come over from where she stood watching the street from behind a broken wall.

"I don't trust her," Natasha instantly murmured. "Not even a bit."

Sin sighed and rubbed her temple before pushing her hair out of her face. Dirt and grime from sweat and the dust in the air had gotten all over her face and made her feel disgusting. Almost as disgusting as she felt after Viper's little talk in the Princess Bar. "She's just like all the rest." Sin frowned and looked out at the darkening sky, catching a glimpse of one or two stars behind the terrible smoke clouds. "Red Skull, Kilgrave, Viper. They're all going to try to tear us apart."

Natasha nodded. "So, what are we going to do?"

Sin glanced back at Kate, who was picking at the arrows in her quiver, examining them closely but staying quiet. Sin turned back to Natasha. "For now? I don't know."

"I do." Natasha glanced at Kate and then at the rubble heaps outside their makeshift safe house. "We stick together. We take out these marks, because they're bad news to _us,_ not just Viper. And then, we reassess the situation."

Sin nodded. "Right. Werner Von Strucker is the first name that seemed interesting. We should figure out where he is."

"Is it in the file?" Natasha asked quickly, taking it from Sin's hands. She perused it carefully. "This should have enough to get us started."

But Sin turned her head toward Kate for a moment before looking back at her partner. "Kate isn't fit for this, and if she by chance does see Logan…"

"We'll have to make sure she doesn't."

"We can't stay even this close to Viper's for too long." Sin turned to Kate. "Come on, Kate; we have to keep moving."

"Are we heading to kill Logan?" She asked them hopefully, looking up with an eagerness that reminded Sin of how Kate had been before this whole incident.

Natasha shook her head. "No. We're moving to kill Strucker's kid."

Kate went to protest, but Sin didn't give her a chance, heading out into the former battleground again, prompting all of them to go silent. They snuck through streets, climbing around broken vehicles and burning rubble heaps. A stench permeated the air, one of death. Sin had smelled it once or twice, but this overpowering odor only came from the aftermath of war. Nevertheless, she put her head down and kept her gaze up.

They had work to do, not only to rid the world of more enemies — but to keep their new enemies from laying hands on her sister.


	3. Chapter 3: Road Trips and Campfires

**(A/N): And we're back with another Tuesday update! This time, let's see what our little stabby director is up to ;)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed, and thanks to SlimSummers2002 for your continuing support and reviews that make us grin! A special shout-out to Practically an Avenger (love your username!) for graduating from lurker to reviewer. You made us grin so hard!**

* * *

 **Chapter Three - Road Trips & Campfires**

 **Somewhere Outside of the Capitol**

 **James 'Logan' Howlett**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _Nothing is impossible in this world. Firm determination, it is said, can move heaven and earth. Things appear far beyond one's power, because one cannot set his heart on any arduous project due to want of strong will."_

— Tsunetomo Yamamoto; Hagakure: The Book Of The Samurai

* * *

It had taken a few days to get anywhere near the Capitol. As it was, they had to drive at night for the most part to avoid being spotted, though Hawkeye running hot using only night vision to guide him was a ride in and of itself. Logan was navigating, and both he and America were more or less just in it for the ride — if nothing else thanks to the sheer _speed_ that Clint was moving them along.

It hadn't helped at all that every now and again, all Logan or America had to go by was a soft 'uh oh' from Clint that often was followed by a hard impact as the car made a nasty landing and just kept going — at which point, Clint would simply whoop and start laughing, while America would swear up a blue streak and then, inevitably, start laughing as well. Though Logan suspected America was more riding the high of adrenaline than anything else.

It was almost dawn when Clint found a spot to hide the black and red monstrosity of an ORV, and by the time it was tucked away, Logan was more than happy to snatch the keys from Clint as Clint twirled them on one finger, grinning still. "What?" Clint said, looking perfectly shocked that Logan had taken the keys.

"I'll show you on the way back," Logan gruffed before he looked over at America, whose hair had somehow gotten even wilder with the wind and rough ride. "You gonna be alright this close to my turf, hardass?"

"Please," America said, rolling her eyes as the little trio set out. Clint had the device that they'd gotten from Cassie in the lab that she promised would work even that far from base — and so far, she was making good on that promise and relaying the latest intel on what their taps into the Capitol's system could show her.

There had been a few sightings on camera — and to their surprise, Hydra already had an APB on the group Kate was travelling with… though there was no information as to what they wanted them for. The good news was that there was no way that SHIELD's systems would tip them off if they were already looking; the two searches would overlap. So Logan and Clint took a moment to discuss the pattern of where Kate had been seen — and the fact that Sinthea Schmidt and Natasha Romanoff had come up alongside her in several screenshots and security cameras. But again … there was no context outside of the fact that 'Lady Hydra' wanted them in custody.

Between Logan and Clint, they didn't need much more direction than that. Both of them were overly familiar with the Capitol for entirely different reasons, though America clearly wasn't entertained by their nonverbal communication. "What is this?" America said, hands on her hips as she looked between the two of them. "Is this some weird SHIELD mind meld going on, or are you two just … like this?"

Clint shrugged. "Yeah, no. Just been here a few times," he said. "But if you need a tour guide…"

"Hands to yourself, Hawk-guy."

"It's Hawk—"

"I said what I said."

Clint let out a sigh of longsuffering, but all the same, America did end up sticking close to them as they made their way deeper inside — if for no other reason than she didn't exactly have a choice when she had no idea where they were going.

"What about you? You been here a few times?" America said quietly to Logan as he led the way through the streets, dodging between buildings.

"Yeah, more'n a few," he admitted. "This neighborhood's made outta nightmares." When she looked up at the beautiful houses around them, she stopped and gave him a disbelieving look. "Just trust me on this one, awright?"

America narrowed her eyes at him but tipped her chin up — as close to an agreement as he was going to get, anyhow.

"Pretty sure I know this place," Clint said as they narrowed down the possible houses from the latest intel they'd gotten. "Fury had us bug this one months before the Games started. Dude has a serious thing for purple and green."

Logan frowned a little deeper at that but nodded. Clint zipped off to get into the upper level of the place as Logan gestured for America to follow him. "Don't bother trying to get a body shot on any of 'em," he told her quietly. "Head or neck only. I promise the rounds will just drug them and knock them out."

"I'm not real excited about shooting my Kate in the head, _chico_. You gonna have a problem if I just kick the sass out of them?"

Logan shook his head. "Watch for the redheads; they're nastier than they look."

"You don't have to tell me," America said with a smirk before she elbowed him in the side.

Logan turned to give her a dry look and then shook his head. "You take the back exit. Hawkeye has upstairs; I'll take the front. If you hear trouble, kick the door in."

"Won't be a problem," she said, pounding one fist into the other as she slipped around the house low — avoiding the windows by crouching down as she zipped by, though that shouldn't have made a difference, seeing as all of the curtains were drawn.

Logan took a moment to try and listen to whatever was going on inside, and from what he could gather, there were three girls. One voice was soft and spoke in a low, velvety, confident tone; the second was almost as confident, but not nearly so smooth … and the third had Logan pausing at the sheer, bubbly excitement.

For a moment, his mind's eye was muddled with images of Silver Fox from before and after her resurrection … quickly replaced by flashes of Kate before the Games and while their alliance was going strong. But the cheerful smiles and happy disposition were gone the instant he remembered the look on her face when he'd looked up after killing the deer. After that, the only expressions he could picture in his head were those that he'd seen on tape of her hurt and rage — and the desperate look she had after she'd stuck an arrow in him when Fury had died.

It took him a moment to steel himself for what he had to do — for Kate and for Kurt. He swallowed hard as he gripped the doorknob. Kate's voice was the closest one to him, if his ears weren't playing tricks on him. But just as he took a breath, the doorknob turned in his hand as the person on the other side started to open it. He quickly let go and took a step back to watch as Kate began to step out, a smile still on her face for an instant before she turned her head and they met gazes. His heart caught in his chest for just a moment, but he pushed through it. "Hey Trickshot. What the hell're you doin' here?"

She looked openly shocked for an instant before her expression shifted into one far more determined. He rushed forward to grab a hold of her — and to close the door, knowing her other teammates were bound to be ready to rush to her aid.

He managed to get an arm around her shoulders from behind, though the first thing she did was to bite the hell out of his forearm to get him to let go. She threw an elbow back into his center for good measure, too. Logan was swearing to himself … still not having truly prepared himself to have to fight _Kate_. He could have gone bare knuckle with the other two without a blink, but Kate? "Take it easy, Trickshot. I don't wanna hurt you."

With a frustrated roar, she threw her head back and bashed him in the face, splitting his lip open and at least getting him to let her go. He was in the middle of regaining his balance when Kate charged and kicked him solidly in the stomach — sending him right through the front door in a crash.

That was all the cue America needed to kick the back door off its hinges and dive into the brawl — her weapon forgotten as she gunned for Sin. America knocked into Sin with a grunt, and both of them went to the ground. They didn't know each other — beyond the fact that America had been told that this girl was on a team that had Kate acting nothing like herself — so there weren't many taunts thrown around, either. Instead, the two girls wrestled to get the upper hand. America was stronger, but Sin had weapons — though America would answer any move toward a knife or gun with a hard hit that had Sin gasping. But America couldn't quite get one up on Sin either when she kept having to keep Sin away from a knife.

Kate rushed back toward Logan, knife in hand and raised, ready to nail him before he could get up off the ground. As she threw herself at him, he caught her wrists, but she was quick to knee him hard. She knocked the wind out of him, and he was seeing stars as he curled forward, but he held onto her wrists tighter. "Damnit, Trickshot," Logan wheezed out. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

"Is that what you told Kurt?" Kate whispered, her eyes sharp with anger.

He paused as much as he could and stared up at her, only to shake his head slowly. "No. That … _no_." He cleared his throat after a moment, while she still struggled to angle the knife over his heart and Logan tried to gather himself to do more than hold her wrists in place. "Let me help you, Kate."

"Don't be an idiot, Princess," America called over from where she and Sin were still nearly evenly matched. "Think I'd be here if I didn't trust him? I'd've bashed his face in if I thought he needed it."

"Thanks for that, Chavez. Very helpful," Logan muttered.

Still, it was enough to get Kate to pause and look America's way. She didn't let up much on the pressure she was trying to put on Logan, but her attention was distracted. "America?"

"One and only," America said.

"Hawkeye!" Logan called out. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm not going to let you get away again," Kate shot back.

"I was gonna say the same thing to you," Logan replied. "But I wasn't calling for _you._ " He shook his head and gritted his teeth. "I don't want to do this," he said before he planted his feet and flipped her — still keeping a grip on her wrists. "Drop the knife, Kate."

"No."

"You don't want to play knives with me, Trickshot."

"He's not wrong," Natasha called out as she and Clint finally stepped into the fight. It looked like the two of them had been having a private word, and neither of them were fighting, standing shoulder to shoulder, though Clint looked totally gobsmacked by the state of affairs when he saw Logan holding down Kate.

"Kate, please," Logan said as sincerely as he could.

"If you won't help me, I'll do it myself," Kate snapped Natasha's way. "You can't just — you can't turn your back on Hydra!"

Logan frowned at that, then turned toward Natasha. "What the hell's goin' on, Red?"

Natasha frowned for a moment, looking between Kate's desperate expression and the other two girls — who had both paused in favor of watching the back and forth. She let out a long sigh and then met Kate's gaze. "Stop it," she said in a sharp tone. "You're happy to comply."

Before Kate even reacted to the words, Sin was already furious. "What are you _doing_?" she snapped Natasha's way, even as Kate went totally relaxed underneath Logan, almost unfocused.

The first thing Logan did was to toss the knife away, and then he was almost trying to rouse her. "Kate?" he said quietly, completely not expecting whatever this was and obviously concerned. But when she didn't respond to him, he was on his feet in a flash, bearing down on Natasha. His hands were in fists, and he felt the minute click as his wrists lined up with his forearms. "What did you _do_ to her?"

Natasha held his gaze but didn't move to fight him. " _I_ didn't do anything. But there's a dead Hydra plant in the next room. Maybe you're familiar with the name? Edward Nygma — he was one of Fury's new underlings this year. We were looking for Werner Von Strucker, but Nygma was here instead. So in case you're wondering, we don't have time for you two to be at each other's throats." She tipped her head Sin's way without dropping Logan's gaze. "Hydra isn't supporting our team anymore; we can't afford to fight against every single person we come across."

"Viper has a price on your heads," Logan said. "Whatever you did, you pissed her off. But that on its own isn't enough to make me trust you."

"I trust her," Clint said.

"You would," Logan said dryly.

"And why should we trust _you_?" Sin asked in a sneer.

"I've got just enough pull to keep you safe," Logan said, which had Clint smirking a little wider.

"I've fought him before; he wasn't trying to hurt her," Natasha said evenly. "If he was, she would be dead." She still held Logan's gaze. "We need to move. If Viper wants our team, we can't stay in one place this long." She started to move forward with Clint, then paused when Logan didn't move out of her path. "Why are you still arguing with me?"

Logan looked toward America. "You stickin' on that one?" he asked as he crouched over to pick up Kate.

"Like glue," America agreed.

"I don't need an escort," Sin said with her eyes narrowed. "I need you to leave my sister alone."

"Listen, if you want to fight Viper on your own and take on her creepy little henchmen, be my guest," Logan said. "I want her dead anyhow. But Kate is coming with me. End of story."

"She'll follow you if you tell her to," Natasha said evenly.

"All the same, I'll feel better knowin' that she can stay quiet if I carry her." He tipped his head toward Clint. "Hard enough with him walkin' around like an elephant."

Natasha nodded, though when Sin continued to glare her way, she let out a breath. "Don't look at me that way. Would you rather they kept fighting and she got hurt? This was the fastest way to solve the problem and get us out of here before things got worse."

Sin narrowed her eyes at that but let out a scoffing noise and finally nodded. "If you do it again—"

"I won't," Natasha said. She finally softened her gaze as she added, "Clint tells me they have a good facility there, good people, to _help_."

"We're going to undo whatever they hell they did to her," Logan said.

"So you can use my team? I don't think so," Sin sneered.

"I ain't askin' your opinion, and she don't need you actin' like you got a claim on her," Logan replied with a harder tone. "I don't _use people._ I want her in her right mind to make her own choices."

Sin narrowed her eyes for a long moment. "Fine," she said at last.

Logan looked at Clint. "You guys take the rear; I'll run point. Keep the _ladies_ in the middle."

"Hey," America said. "No, you're playing pack mule. _I'll_ run point."

"And I'd go along with that if you knew your way around. No," Logan replied, not even considering it as he got Kate comfortably situated in his arms.

"Then let me carry her," America offered.

Logan smirked at her. "I think we'll keep it to those that have no interest in gettin' in her pants."

America raised both eyebrows and then grinned outright. "Can you blame me?"

He couldn't help but chuckle at her. "Careful. Wasn't that long ago I considered her like a bratty little sister." With that, the little group headed out, with America keeping a very close eye on Sin — and ready to clock her one if she needed to. They followed a different trail out than the one they had going in, and once they got to the ORV, Kate was restrained properly and buckled in. Logan let out a breath and took a moment to kick Clint out of the driver's seat. "No damn way. Not after last time."

Clint made a face at him but then shrugged easily as he climbed in next to Natasha and draped his arm around her shoulders. "Fine by me. Drive on, Jeeves."

Logan shook his head at Clint's antics — and undeniably better mood — before they started off, tearing off into the darkness almost due east.

* * *

It wasn't until dawn that Kate began to snap out of whatever trance Natasha had put her in, blinking heavily a few times before she started to look around herself and take in her surroundings. "Mornin', sunshine," Logan said just barely over the whipping winds.

Kate narrowed her eyes and bared her teeth, obviously trying to get free. "What's going on?" she demanded.

"Takin' you to see a professional," Logan replied without looking her way. "To undo whatever garbage they did to you." He turned toward her. "And if you're good and get over this crap, then someone's waiting for you on the other end."

"What is he talking about?" Kate hissed toward Sin, who frowned hard and shook her head.

"Just trust me," Sin said. "I won't let them hurt you."

" _I_ won't let _anyone_ hurt you," Logan said. "If you were gonna be hurt, it'd been done by now."

"C'mon, Katie," Clint said with a grin. "You can't tell me you didn't miss us. Right?"

Kate's expression softened slightly when she looked toward Clint, and she obviously looked like she was trying to place him. "Nat missed you," she said at last.

"Aww, gee Nat, you're busted," Clint said, grinning outright at Natasha, who shoved his arm, but there wasn't much more she could do in the small space. "Love you too." But that had the car falling into a sort of silence as Clint and Natasha signed back and forth to each other, having some kind of argument that seemed to entertain both of them — and Kate seemed to shrink in on herself slowly.

"We're gonna take a little break," Logan said after they'd been going for a long while. "But it's not gonna take all day. We're in friendly territory." He looked at Natasha and Clint in the rearview mirror. "Give you two a few minutes alone."

"Knew he liked me too," Clint said as he rested his chin on Natasha's shoulder — and she shook her head at him.

"You're ridiculous."

"And _you_ missed me."

"God knows why," Natasha said, though she was smirking lightly at him all the same

"Wait until you're alone," Logan said. "You're creepin' Chavez out."

"I wasn't going to say anything…" America shook her head. "But yeah. You are."

"I can see your face, Miss America," Logan said. "Just can't figure out when you decided to be quiet about _anything_."

"Since I realized this is my life now," she shot back. "Tell me it won't be like this when Kate sees that sweet Nine boy."

"Gotta pass the psych eval first," Logan said seriously. "Not lettin' her near him until I know she's stable and ain't gonna take a pot shot at the Elf."

"Oh, is that why I didn't get to carry her? Not because it'd be _improper_ — you're just being all noble and protective?" she teased.

But Logan gave her a dry look. "Better she takes it out on me than anyone else."

"Don't know if you noticed, _chico_ , but you're the one she's after."

"I noticed," Logan said. "Still holding my ground on this."

America glanced behind her at Kate, who was stuck and glaring and clearly not herself. "Yeah, well… let's just get her fixed up. I miss my best friend," she muttered.

"Pretty sure we're gonna need the director's clearance to take these ladies on base," Clint said in an entirely amused tone, which only got a dry look from Logan.

"Give it a rest, Barton," he said.

"What? I'm never going to get tired of this," Clint said, grinning broadly. "Best director ever."

"Who's the new director?" Natasha asked, frowning slightly as they continued on their way, and Clint simply gestured at Logan.

Sin's eyes widened in surprise, and she let out a short laugh of disbelief and rolled her eyes. "You? Did they run out of options?"

"Must have," Logan replied easily, already used to getting that response and not feeling at all like explaining Fury's choices to _anyone_.

"Maybe SHIELD needs to recruit more." Sin looked at Clint. "I mean, you dragged him in too." Then, she paused. "You're lucky my shoulder doesn't hurt anymore."

"I thought he'd be good to pair up with for this mission," Logan said. "Come find me when your shoulder's healed up if you think you really wanna dance that bad." He leaned toward her. "Don't want you to be able to say you lost a fight from an injury."

Sin glared. "If I'm dancing with anyone, it isn't you."

"Not how I meant it, but who are you lookin' for?" Logan asked.

She shrugged. "When this shit show is all over, maybe I'll tell you. But he's back in Six, and I'm not getting there any time soon."

"Never know," Logan said.

Sin smirked and looked over at him again. "Sure, if you want your ass kicked by a lady, I can oblige."

"Hasn't happened yet, but you're welcome to try," Logan said, turning her way with a cocky sort of smirk.

"Careful, _Wolverine_ ; your smirk is going to fade into nonexistence." Sin winked at Natasha before realizing Natasha was busy talking to Clint. With a huff, she turned back to Logan. "Insufferable."

"Good thing you're here to keep 'em in line," he said.

"Well, you can handle the bird who tried to kill me back in the lovely arena we called home." She smirked, but there was very little mirth in her expression. "No, I have not forgotten that hospitality."

"I've found it best to let most of that go," Logan said.

"Um, you'd have to," Clint said. "Seeing as you had the highest kill count …"

Sin actually laughed for a moment and then shrugged. "I can forgive and not forget. That is a thing."

Logan nodded. "Banner broke my nose; figure you can do the same for Clint if you want."

Sin immediately turned to him. "Oh?"

"You didn't know Banner was up and around?" Logan said. "He's still … pretty pissed off, honestly."

With a massive grin, she shook her head. "No, I did not. Well, we heard rumors, but nothing with names." She nodded. "Good. Good. Glad he got to punch you."

"I had it comin'," Logan agreed.

The break they took was, as Logan promised, a shorter one, though they split up the last of the rations they'd brought between the girls as Logan took a moment to head out to hunt. When he returned to camp, he carried half a dozen partridge that he tossed down in front of the fire. "We've got a little time. Then we're gonna just burn it all the way back." He looked toward Kate. "I want her out of those cuffs as soon as we can get her out."

"And then?" Natasha asked.

"Then we'll figure it out when we get there," Logan said. "I doubt you'll be given free rein to wander the base, but I won't let them lock you in cells."

"If you're fighting against the Red Skull, then we're on the same side," Sin said with a thoughtful frown.

"Of course we are," Logan said, turning her way. "I still gotta chuck him off a rooftop, don't I?"

Sin almost couldn't help the smirk. " _After_ I kill him."

"Fine by me," Logan said with a shrug. "Might have to race Viper, though."

"You're not wrong," Sin said. "If she hadn't gotten upset about Kate's orders, she might have helped me get to the Red Skull myself."

Logan paused at that and narrowed his eyes. "You wanna explain that part?"

"I don't know all the details," Sin said. "I just know the _men_ in charge want Kate to kill you. Viper wasn't happy about that."

Logan drew in a deep breath and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "That's … great. Just great. Not surprised, though."

Sin nodded, her chin tipped slightly up before she added, "That's why we left. Hydra put those orders in her head and then Viper blamed her for following them. I won't stay where my sisters are scapegoats."

"Ophelia is nuts," Logan said. "And possessive over what she thinks is _hers_."

"And nuts," America put in. "That one bears repeating."

"I think the other one does too," Logan argued. "You haven't seen her up close."

"Yeah, well, I have, and I agree with both of you," Clint put in. "She ran a bar close by where my old outfit operated, and you wouldn't believe the _rumors_ — which weren't even as bad at the _truth_."

"She's got a nice bar in the Capitol," Logan said. "Main floor runs a lot of betting tables. Top floor …" He frowned and shook his head. "I actually don't remember too much of it." He covered his eyes with one hand and let out a long sigh before he swore to himself thinking about how she'd drugged him that night in the bar. And … several nights in the shark tank.

"Yeah, we had a few fighters that never came out of her place," Clint said. "And a few who did but were never the same."

"Yeah?" Logan said, holding his gaze. "Any of 'em wake up in her suite?"

Clint visibly winced and shook his head. "Aww, man. That's… no."

Logan turned toward Sin. "Now you know why she doesn't want me dead and why your dad does. She and the Skull are an item. When I'm not drugged up for her, I guess."

Sin shook her head at that. "She's not someone I'm willing to follow anymore," she said. "All I want is to keep my team together — and to kill the Red Skull, along with whoever's helping him."

"Sounds like we're on the same page," Logan agreed.

"Then — for now — I guess I can work with you," Sin said with a nod.

Logan took a moment and offered her his hand. "Took us long enough."

Sin couldn't stop her smirk as she shook his hand. "Agreed."

As they had talked, Logan had been working on cleaning up their dinner — and it wasn't too terribly long before their birds were done cooking. "You gonna be okay eating your cousin like this, Hawkeye?" Logan asked Clint with a little smirk.

"Needs must," Clint said, returning the smirk with a crooked grin of his own, especially when he caught Kate's subdued smirk — even if she was doing her best to look small.

Logan was sure to let America hand Kate her dinner — and she'd volunteered to make sure Kate didn't have any trouble getting into it, either. "Come on, baby bird," America teased.

"You're not funny," Kate said, shaking her head at her friend. "Let me go and I can do it myself."

"And have you throw yourself at _him_ again? I can't let your pride take that kind of a beating, Princess."

"You don't understand," Kate said, her tone almost breathy and desperate. "I _need_ to kill him."

"Why?" she asked. "Give me a good reason, and I'll help you."

"He…" Kate closed her eyes. "I don't remember. He's the reason Kurt ... he did something horrible," she said.

"Katie Kate, you must not have watched the Games after you woke up again," Clint said. "Or you'd know the whole group was high on tracker jacker venom — and Logan here spent the rest of the time looking for you to keep you safe." He shook his head. "I mean, I know I died halfway through, but I got to see the tapes, so I got the full picture. Clearly, you didn't."

Kate shook her head stubbornly. "Hydra wouldn't lie to me," she insisted.

"And you think I would?" Clint said, holding his arms out.

Kate narrowed her eyes at him. "No…" She shook her head. "I don't know. This — this doesn't make sense. This isn't right." Her voice rose a bit. "This isn't right. I can't—"

"Kate, it's fine," America said, dropping her head to catch Kate's gaze. "Calm down, _chica_."

Logan watched the whole interaction and kept his silence for a long while, quietly taking it all in before he turned to Natasha and Sin. "Who all was brought back on your side?"

"Tributes or victors?" Natasha asked.

"Pretty sure I know all the victors," Logan said.

"Jason Todd," Sin said, her eyes narrowed. "He's my father's _favorite_."

"How does Jason feel about that?" Logan asked dryly. "As I recall, Banner was his favorite our year."

"We haven't seen anyone from this year," Natasha said. "Not in person. But I can tell you that they wanted both of the tributes from Eight." She shrugged. "I was bored at the Princess Bar. I did a little snooping."

Logan nodded at that. "Good for you. What about from our year or the year before? Did you have any crossover with Silver Fox?"

Natasha frowned. "I heard her name, but we were relatively isolated. For a short time, we also had Wade Wilson and T'Challa from our year, but both of them have disappeared."

Logan nodded. "Wade killed Whitehall and pulled T'Challa out. That's all I can confirm for you."

"And all I can tell you is that Jason, Jack, and Harleen were all Hydra's considered assets for this year."

"Harley was on SHIELD's list, too." Logan smirked thinking of how Harley had gone out of her way for Dick. "That girl's full of surprises."

"That doesn't shock me."

Logan watched the rest of the group out of the corner of his eye, waiting until everyone was done eating and looked like they were ready to move on before he and Clint started kicking dirt over the fire. As soon as they were set, Logan made his way over to Kate. "Think you can ride shotgun?" He picked her up before she could answer and had her slung over his shoulder to carry her to the car.

"Put me down," she hissed, squirming and trying to get loose.

"I will when we get to the car," he said. "Front seat or back. Your choice."

"Put me _down_ ," she said again.

"America," Logan called out, "I don't speak stubborn Hawk. You wanna translate for me?"

"Kate, are you sitting on my lap or Clint's?" America called out. "I'll give you a hint — one is more fun."

Kate glared over Logan's shoulder. "I'm not sitting on anyone's lap."

"Not enough room, Princess," America sang out. "I'll just climb in the front seat, and you can sit with me."

"The other option is that we wedge you between America and me in the front," Logan said.

"Front seat," Kate grumbled. "With _America._ "

"She just doesn't want to get in the middle of Clint and Tasha," Logan said in a low whisper to America as he waited for America to climb in and then shifted Kate so she was settled in with her. "By my count, it oughta be another four hours if I keep the hammer down all the way."

"Oh, don't rush on my account," America said. "I'm _fine_."

Logan smirked and gestured to Kate's wrists. "I'm more worried about that, to be honest."

America frowned for a moment when she saw the discoloration from where Kate had been trying to get out of the cuffs and then sighed. "Yeah. Floor it, _chico_."


	4. Chapter 4: In the Batcave

**(A/N): Here we are with another update! This time, we're checking in on some happenings with the rebels around the districts, with our talented Ophelia Claire and Kara Danvers!**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have reviewed; we love seeing your enthusiasm! Thanks to our reviewers, too! Slim Summers2002, we always love hearing what you love. And Practically An Avenger, we have to agree wholeheartedly! America is always hilarious, and we can't wait for more Kate and Kurt either (that was so painful). Hail Hydra... you know Hydra are the bad guys in this fic, right?**

 **From CC re: Logan - GCBC, you are the FIRST person to catch that without being told. YES. All of Logan's chapter quotes set exactly what HIS mindset is for the chapter, not necessarily the mood of the chapter and the first switch OFF of his samurai lumberjack mindset was waaaaay back in the first book after he won. If you re-read his stuff with that in mind, the quote will always be a great barometer for where my boy is mentally.**

* * *

 **Chapter Four - In The Batcave**

 **Kara Danvers, formerly of District Five**

 **Written By Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _Unity is strength … when there is teamwork and collaboration, wonderful things can be achieved."- Mattie Stephanek_

* * *

Kara held her knees tighter to her chest, trying to make herself as small as possible in the tiny dark space. She held a hand over her mouth, muffling the sound of her breathing as much as possible. Running footsteps echoed close by, as well as the occasional shout. No footsteps had come close to her yet, but it was only a matter of time. She jumped when someone ran past the door of the room she was hidden in, then tensed as they stopped and reversed their course. Soft steps slowly made their way into the room, and Kara winced. There were only so many places to conceal herself in here, and she wished she'd had a chance to get to a better spot.

A couple steps, the sound of something being shifted and moved back into place. The person came closer and closer…

Kara looked up just as the round, smiling face of the young Elsie Dee poked over the back of the chair she was hidden behind.

"Found you!" Elsie crowed happily. "Now you hafta help me find everyone else!"

Kara clambered out from behind the chair to find Kitty, a girl from Nine that SHIELD had brought with them, and two of the kids from Seven's big group already following Elsie around.

"Well, at least I wasn't the first one found," Kara said, brushing a dust bunny off her thigh. "Where else have you checked? Because I know for a fact that Alex found a space behind a box in the pantry during our game three days ago, and Kamala didn't find her for twenty minutes."

Elsie shrieked with excitement and took off down the hall towards the stairs. The two kids ran after her, while Kara and Kitty followed at a more sedate pace.

"Behind a chair? I've seen you do way better that that," Kitty teased good-naturedly as they descended the staircase into the main foyer. Evening light shone through the windows and turned the hall gold and orange.

"She found you before me!" Kara retorted. "You're always one of the last ones found. And I know you switch hiding spots after you get passed by, and I still haven't figured out how. Anyway, I have a right to have my mind on something else."

"Yeah, I know. It'll be fine, though; it's not like you're going to have to fight your way through a literal swarm of HYDRA soldiers this time, and you'll have Scott and Babs and Tripp and Mac as backup."

"I know. But it's a little more than just beating back enemy forces this time; it's a rescue mission. We have actual rebels to find and extract."

Kitty placed a hand on Kara's shoulder. "You'll do great. Don't worry."

"Kara?" The girls turned to find Barbara standing in a nearby doorway. "It's time to suit up."

* * *

Alex fussed with the strap of the body armor that Kara was buckling over her torso. Kara swatted gently at her hand, but there was no malice behind it.

"Can't I fuss over my sister?" Alex said, swatting her right back.

Kara heaved a dramatic sigh but let Alex finish fastening the straps and brush imaginary dust off her collar.

As Alex finished, she glanced up, and it struck Kara that they were the same height. How long had that been the case? Had she been Alex's height before the Games, or had her new body been gifted an extra inch or two? Alex caught her gaze and gave her a slightly querying look.

"What?"

Kara shook her head. "It's nothing." She chuckled softly. "I'm finally as tall as you, that's all."

"You are _such_ a little sister," Alex said. She fussed with some more nonexistent dust specks. "You doing okay?"

"In what sense?" Kara asked, scraping her hair back into a ponytail.

"Everything," Alex said. "Physically, emotionally, mentally... you've only been on your feet for a couple weeks, and you've had a lot of stress in that time. I just want to make sure you're dealing with everything okay."

Kara finished winding a hair elastic around her ponytail. "It's… been a ride," she said. "Less than a month ago, I was just hoping for an internship with Cat Grant, and now I'm in Bruce Wayne's mansion all the way in Seven, going on missions with my secret agent sister in the middle of a country-wide revolution."

Alex chuckled and stepped back a pace to perch on the footboard of her bed. "That's an entirely fair point."

Kara went and retrieved her scabbard from where it leaned against the wall next to her bed. "Any word on Clark?" She traced the leatherwork on the case. Clark had been sent on to the new SHIELD base to get proper treatment for whatever mental conditioning HYDRA had done to him.

"I haven't heard anything new for a day or so, but the last update was that he was awake. Disoriented, but responding non-aggressively to Charles. He's shaking off whatever HYDRA did pretty easily."

"Stubborn farm boy," Kara murmured as she strapped her scabbard to her waist.

As the sisters made final preparations, Scott and Barbara appeared in the doorway.

"You guys ready?" Scott asked.

"Yup. We heading out?" Alex asked.

"The jet's ready for takeoff," Barbara said. "It's a little bit of a walk to get to where it's hidden."

"Then we'd best be off," Kara said.

* * *

The hike through the backwoods of Seven took just under half an hour. There was very little conversation, both as an attempt to remain stealthy and as everyone settled into mission mode. Kara rubbed her thumb up and down the edge of her scabbard as she walked. The leather was smooth and firm under her fingertip. Alex noticed the nervous gesture and wrapped an arm around Kara's shoulders, squeezing gently. Kara pressed into Alex's side as they walked that last hundred yards to where the jet was camouflaged.

They lowered the ramp and began preflight checks. Alex was in the pilot's seat, running the startup sequence. Kara dropped into the copilot's chair and ran her fingers across the array of switches, knobs, and buttons.

"When this is all over, I'll start teaching you to fly. First thing," Alex promised. "But for now..." Alex tipped her head back towards the cabin. Tripp was standing at the cockpit threshold. He winked at Kara.

"I'm going to need that seat," he said with a grin. Kara vacated the chair and hurried to take her seat in the cabin with the others.

The flight to Eight was spent mostly in silence. Kara spent a good portion of the time thinking about Clark. She wished he had been able to stay at the mansion with them. She had wanted to be there for him when he had woken up.

Kara still had moments of panic when she woke up tangled in her sheets, her mind creating images of dirty white walls and pale faces looming over her and jagged smiles. Who was there for Clark when he woke up? Would they have even let him out of his restraints when he first came back to consciousness? Would they have even been there for him or would they have just let him thrash around and panic for a while? Clark didn't have a secret agent older sister to assuage his fears and still his panic.

Kara slipped into a half-doze as they flew. She caught bits of murmured conversations about Wayne Manor, about other districts, about the plan once they landed. She was roused from her snooze as the jet began to descend and her stomach dropped slightly.

"All right, folks," Alex said from the cockpit as the plane descended into a grove of trees. "We've picked up transmissions from a small rebel force here in Eight. They've been broadcasting a distress signal on several well-hidden frequencies for about a week now. We've been able to trace the signal to an area of about six square blocks, but it's still a fairly large area to search through. Hydra forces are still in the area, but we're not sure to what extent. Eight doesn't really have the warrior presence of Four, so they likely still have a hold on the district. Normally, we can hone in on Hydra's transmission frequencies, but recently, every time we start hearing things, we lose it within the day, and then it picks up again on another frequency. Hydra could be switching for some reason, or it could be an external issue. Either way, caution is obviously going to be necessary here."

Everyone voiced an affirmative. "Our goal today is not to clear out Hydra forces," Alex continued. "They show attention to anyone who rises up against them. Civilians have been… not _spared_ , per se, but left alone enough to be okay. They keep their heads down, Hydra lets them get on with some semblance of their lives. Our goal is to find and extract these rebels quickly and quietly."

"Do we know who we're looking for?" Scott asked.

Mac shook his head. "Not really. We have heard a phrase repeated occasionally on the rebel transmissions we catch — something about spiders rising, usually as some kind of sign-off or salute."

"Who was the spider in the last Games?" Barbara asked. "Wasn't he from Eight?"

"Peter Parker was given the name Spiderman," Alex said. "It's very possible that the rebels are using his image as a message of hope or something." She checked a handheld computer. "We've got another transmission coming in. Let's move out and see if we can't find it while they broadcast."

Everyone collected whatever gear they had brought with them and followed Alex and Tripp off the plane into the nighttime air. They trekked quietly through the forest — single file, with Alex and Tripp at the front, Scott, Barbara, and Kara behind, and Mac at the end, keeping watch behind them.

The forest eventually gave way into a couple dozen yards of scrub before the buildings actually started. Two large manufacturing factories stood before them like Sentinels guarding the district. Tripp motioned to head to the right, around the side of the right-hand factory. The building itself was surrounded by a tall fence topped with curls of barbed wire. One by one, the party darted from shrub to shrub until they had made it around the perimeter of the factory and the outskirts of town lay before them.

Some lights were still on in houses, but at this point, most Eight residents appeared to have gone to bed. Alex and Tripp led them through alleyways and down side streets, creeping through the darkest parts of the streets.

More than once, they passed green-suited soldiers patrolling the streets. The Hydra soldiers didn't appear to be looking for anything in particular as they walked, just a standard watch. Kara saw a silent conversation between Alex, Mac, and Tripp that seemed to center on whether they should take out the soldiers they saw. Alex had a hand on her gun and seemed to be for it, but eventually, it was apparently decided against.

"We're getting close here," Alex murmured after the patrol had passed. "Probably going to be a little more populated with Hydra around here. Stay sharp. Weapons ready just in case."

Kara put a hand on the pommel of her sword but didn't draw it from its sheath just yet. The blade was reflective, and any light that glinted off it could reveal their position.

They were entering what appeared to be a warehouse district now. Some were in use, while others were clearly abandoned, complete with broken windows and busted-up doors and graffiti over the signs.

Kara let her gaze wander over some of the spray paint designs. There were several older tags, some newer ones denouncing Thanos and Hydra—

—and right there, painted above a tall metal roll-up door, the simple image of a spider with long, angular legs. It wasn't very big, maybe the size of her hand, but it was fresh, and the image was clear. Kara waved a hand, catching the attention of Tripp. She pointed at the spider and watched as he pointed it out to Alex and Mac in turn. Kara made sure Barbara and Scott saw it as well before Alex motioned for them to follow her around the corner of that warehouse. They crept along the wall until Alex found what she was looking for: a door that had been broken open at one point. It hung limply ajar from one hinge, and the wood around the doorknob was splintered. Alex eased it open until the gap was wide enough for everyone to slip through.

Inside the warehouse was darker than outside. Moonlight and starlight filtered through the dirty and broken windows, casting faintly illuminated puddles on the ground. Dust floated in thick patches inside the shafts of light, the nearby ones swirling gently in the air currents made by their entrances. Crates lay in haphazard piles across the floor. Many were splintered or shattered entirely, their contents looted.

Alex motioned for the group to spread out, raising two fingers. Kara followed Alex to take the left flank, Scott and Barbara went for the right, and Tripp and Mac took the center. Each group began working their way through the warehouse, moving slowly and silently.

As they moved through the main room, another room became visible through a half-open door in the corner, with a faint light glowing gently inside. Alex touched Kara's arm and pointed to it. Kara nodded, and the sisters padded silently to flank the doorway. Kara peeked in.

The room was small, possibly an old office. There was a desk, a filing cabinet with the drawers ripped out and strewn across the room, and a chair that lay on its side. On top of the desk was some kind of small electronic machine, its lights casting the gentle glow they'd seen. The room appeared empty from their position, but there were spots they couldn't see from the door.

Alex lifted her gun. _I'll go first_ , she mouthed at Kara. Kara nodded, drawing her sword. Alex lifted three fingers.

3...2...1

The sisters burst into the room one after the other, spinning to check the corners of the room.

There was no one.

Alex didn't lower her gun, but she went over to the desk to inspect the device.

"It's a transmission device," she whispered. "Someone was broadcasting here."

"The rebels or Hydra?" Kara asked.

"Well, we're not Hydra," said a new voice from behind them. "Hopefully, you're not either."

Kara and Alex whirled around, weapons up. Two people stood in the doorway: a boy and a girl, both around Kara's age. The girl wore a white sweatshirt with the hood raised. Blonde hair tumbled out from inside the hood. The boy had dark skin and a black t-shirt. They raised their hands as Kara and Alex pointed their weapons at them.

The boy looked at Kara, and recognition dawned in his eyes. "Whoa," he said. "You're dead."

The girl elbowed him in the side. "Don't be rude," she muttered

"Well, it's true!" the boy insisted. "You saw it."

"I don't recommend it," Kara said. "It's not fun. Who are you?"

The newcomers looked at one another. The girl glanced back at Alex, her gaze flicking to the eagle crest on the collarbone of Alex's jumpsuit.

"We could ask you the same thing," she said. Neither of them made any move to identify themselves.

There were footsteps in the warehouse, and Kara saw the rest of the team approaching. The kids noticed too, and their posture got even more tense. Kara could tell they were getting ready for a fight or flight.

Kara decided to take a chance. She lowered the tip of her sword and stepped forward a pace. "We're here answering a call," she said. "Spiders rising."

The demeanor of the two strangers changed immediately. Their faces broke into wide grins.

"You got our distress signal!" the girl said excitedly. Behind them in the doorway, the rest of the party lowered their weapons.

"We were giving up hope that it had made it further than the district boundaries," said the boy. "Uh, how far away did you pick it up?"

Kara glanced at Alex. Her gun was lowered but still gripped tightly. Alex looked at Kara, then at the kids.

"District Seven," she said.

The boy's jaw dropped. "It went all the way to _Seven_?" he said incredulously, turning to the girl. "Seven!" he repeated excitedly. He grinned at Kara and stuck out his hand. "My name's Miles," he said. "This is Gwen. And you were dead, but apparently you're not, which is great, for you, I guess?"

Kara shook his hand, a little weirded out by Miles' sudden exuberance. "Did you make this?" She pointed behind her at the transmission device.

"Yeah, we did!" Miles said excitedly. "It's a transmission device, so we could send out our distress signals, but it also has a signal jammer, so we've been messing with Hydra's communications for weeks!"

"That's impressive," said Scott from behind Gwen.

"They're with you, right?" Gwen asked.

"They're with us," Alex confirmed. "I don't mean to compliment your machine and run, but we should get you guys out of here. That's what you wanted, right?"

"That's the best suggestion I've heard all week," said Gwen. "We've got bags packed in another room... Miles, let's grab our stuff and blow this district."

"Literally or figuratively?" Miles said as the group followed them to another room. "Because I could _probably_ —"

"Please tell me we're going somewhere with no explosives readily available," Gwen said as the group made for the warehouse door.

"No explosives," Barbara said. "But you'll have to tell me more about that jamming device. We could _so_ use that."

Miles' eyes lit up.

"I hope you weren't hoping to be sneaky on the way out of here," said Gwen. "Because now, you'll never get him to stop talking."


	5. Chapter 5: And My Lovely Assistant

**(A/N): Time for our Tuesday update! This time we're peeking at some kids that are being enslaved by Hydra...**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have reviewed for your enthusiasm and your hard work! And thanks to Practically an Avenger and Slim Summers2002. We're glad you both enjoyed the Kara fluff, and PAA, we're glad that the mixture of worlds is working! :D**

* * *

 **Chapter Five - "And My Lovely Assistant …"**

 **Hydra Controlled Triskellion**

 **Anthony Stark, Formerly of District Three**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _No great mind has ever existed without a touch of madness." - Aristotle_

* * *

 _Squeak. Squeak. Squeak_ — _fwump._

 _Squeak. Squeak. Squeak_ — _fwump._

A giggle echoed through the room, and Tony closed his eyes, dropping his chin to his chest with a heavy sigh and letting his tools fall to the bench. He really thought this was going to be more fun. Sure, he was working with a gun to his head, but he'd never had a curvy, bright-eyed blonde as his lab assistant before. And she was excitable, perky, affectionate, _and_ in his own age group. He couldn't believe his initial thought was "what could possibly go wrong?" as he listened to the bright, soft giggle across the room.

"Harley …" Tony said in a weary manner that made it perfectly clear to anyone that he really needed a little quiet if he couldn't have his music. Anyone but Harley Quinn, that is.

"Am I gettin' on ya nerves, Mistah Stark?" she asked, and Tony turned her way just in time to see her perched on the office chair and leaning back as she spun, with one foot propelling her in circles — the source of the squeaks and the _fwump_. "Cause it's not my fault if I'm buggin' ya! You gotta give me somethin' ta do!"

A dozen one-liners ran through his head that he'd already learned were _not_ a good idea if he wanted to get anything _done_ — because unlike most of the girls that Tony had met that would roll their eyes or fawn over him, Harley got _aggressively affectionate_. He wasn't even aware that was a thing, but after being tackled off of his work bench for a totally unexpected kiss a few times, he got the message and stopped with what he _thought_ was harmless flirting.

"C'mon, Mistah Stark," Harley said, almost whining. "You told those squid worshippin' goobers that ya needed my help — so dig deep in that big, beautiful brain a' yers an _gimmie somethin' ta do!"_

Frustrated, Tony pushed back from the bench he'd been working at and crossed the room to where Harley was twirling on her chair. "You know how to run computers?" he asked, to which Harley nodded brightly. "Then how about you go over my data and look for any problems?"

"Oh sure; I can do that," Harley agreed, straightening up. Tony put his hands on the back of Harley's chair and began to push her across the room — which had her throwing her arms out and leaning back so that she was leaning her head on his shoulder as he moved her. She was giggling and saying 'wheeee!' even as she pulled her feet up on the seat of the chair, and that in itself had Tony smirking at her unsinkable _joy_ — regardless of the setting.

When he got her to the computer, he gently pushed her right up to the desk, and she wrapped her arms around his neck with a giggle as he leaned over her from behind. Tony smirked to himself and then simply reached around her to access the keyboard and get her started. "Think you can just make sure that the math on everything lines up?" Tony asked, knowing full well that the math was right. But it _should_ be a good way to keep her out of his hair.

"Oh, sure," Harley said, shrugging one shoulder up. "Looks like it's a simple enough algorithm to follow. Should be a piece o' cake." She leaned forward and got to it as Tony straightened up with a frown. He … hadn't realized that she actually could _do_ this kind of thing. He frowned to himself, watching over her shoulder for a second before he went back to his side of the little lab — watching her suspiciously as he did so.

They didn't have a ton of time to work when Hydra was looking over his shoulder. The presence of the cameras was like a black cloud hanging in every corner of the lab, following his every move. The work that he and Bruce Banner had done to sabotage the TAHITI project was good… too good, in fact. Already, Hydra, who had their own TAHITI set up, and had tried — _and failed_ — to revive several of their top tier soldiers and assassins that had fallen. And as soon as they had Tony in their hands, they'd made their point perfectly clear. They wanted their dead soldiers back to life. _Now_.

* * *

 _From the moment that Hydra had managed to isolate Tony from Bruce and SHIELD, he tried to protect a yet-to-be-awakened tribute. He'd tried to run from the attack initially, but someone cracked him in the head from behind, and for a few long moments, he couldn't do a thing to fight back. Not until Agent Fitz seemed to appear out of nowhere._

 _Fitz had managed to shoot the Hydra soldiers that had taken Tony and dragged him partway down the hall, but from the wide-eyed expression Fitz was wearing when Tony came to, it was clear Fitz wasn't going to be running this whole escape on his own. "Get up; we have to save some of these ex-tributes," Fitz said in his thick Capitolite accent. He dragged Tony into one of the rooms that housed only one tube because that tribute was so close to waking up anyhow … she was being staged to move to clean up and then the wake up room …. But she wasn't ready quite yet._

 _Both Tony and FItz had worked together to get the bubbly little blonde out of the capsule where the tributes were brought to life. It was a fine thing, and they weren't sure if she'd rouse properly for as quickly as they were trying to get her moving. They'd carried the girl into a computer room adjacent to the one that held her capsule_ — _not too far from the fight_ — _and they simply started trying to wake her. Fitz barricaded the door as Tony held the little blonde partially upright. "Come on, honey; we haven't got time for this."_

 _Gunfire had echoed the hall outside where Tony was wide-eyed with Fitz before he gently laid the girl down to punch in some data on the still running computer, switching places with Fitz._

 _Hydra started pounding on the door, and Fitz quickly shifted to wake her up quicker. "Miss Quinn, ye need to wake up for me. Come on! Quickly!" He was lightly slapping her cheek to rouse her as her head lolled and she began to make tired little noises._

" _Not now, ma," Harley almost groaned, trying to push Fitz's hand away from her face, though her aim was madly off, and she ended up putting her palm almost up his nose._

 _Tony blew out a breath as he hastily started the sequence that sparked up a small electrical fire_ inside _the control box where the genesis tube's brains were housed. The charges he and Bruce had made hadn't all gone off, and Tony swore to himself about improvised materials._

 _Either way, though, it was going to be a problem for Hydra even if they_ had _managed to copy any of it, since he and Bruce had already corrupted the files that showed how to recreate the hardware. And just to be sure, Tony was working feverishly to get a nasty worm uploaded and active to complete the destruction to every bit of their work._

 _The little blonde squeaked and opened her eyes as Hydra breached the door. Tony had barely hit the enter button launching the worm when they rushed in. It was clear that even though the soldiers that had breached the door didn't know exactly what Tony had done, they figured out that whatever it was wasn't what they'd wanted from him._

 _Before Tony could do more than push back from the computer, he had half a dozen guns in his face, and all of the men holding them were shouting at him._

 _Harley and Fitz had been surrounded already, and though she was still coming to her senses, Harley's sense of humor was clearly intact. "Is there a reason all you fellas're all standin' around while a lady is in dire need of some clothes?"_

 _If the situation wasn't so serious, Tony would have laughed, but instead, the soldiers around him yanked him to his feet from the computer and then shoved him down on his knees next to Fitz and Harley, ordering all three of them to put their hands on their heads, though before he did, Tony pulled off his shirt and wordlessly handed it to Harley. Of course, he ended up getting struck across the face for his trouble, and Harley had gotten hassled_ — _though the freshly-awake blonde had protested loudly and tried to take the rifle away from the soldier that had taken a swing at her._

 _It took several long, terrifying minutes before there was even any indication that things had changed. Tony had his eyes closed tight while he tried to keep his hands on his head. Fitz had gotten hit too when he'd only reached out to keep his balance_ — _so it was clear that Hydra had no tolerance for any deviation from their orders._

 _They held the position they had been kneeling in to the point of painfulness when an elderly woman with wild white hair walked in. The soldiers parted, though they kept their rifles trained on the three ex-tributes. Tony stole a glance at his fellow captives, though it was clear right away that neither one of them had clue one as to who this person was._

 _The woman took just a moment to look over the scene_ — _the computer was clearly showing lines and lines of code being eaten, in spite of the Hydra soldier there that was trying to stop it. Tony looked over at the other two for a moment and tried to tip his chin up, doing his best to keep the silent, serious expression he was wearing. But of course, that fell apart when the woman spoke._

" _What have we here, my little dearies. You've all been very naughty. And Granny can't let such behavior stand." She was smiling in a menacing manner, but Harley clearly didn't even_ try _to hold back before she burst out laughing. Both Fitz and Tony turned to watch her as she giggled_ — _though she managed to keep her hands on her head the whole time._

" _What's yer name, mistah?" Harley giggled with tears of laughter running down her cheeks. "Cause I don't care how much lipstick yer wearin'; ain't no way that's the dulcet tones of a fellow member of tha fairer sex."_

 _The self proclaimed 'Granny Goodness' sent a withering glare Harley's way. "I would speak to Granny with more respect, little hussy," Granny said in that deep, disturbing timbre._

" _I must need my ears checked," Tony said, turning toward Harley, though he kept an eye on the armed guards around them. "Was that Granny or Manny?"_

" _I dunno, sweetcheeks," Harley said, grinning wider at him. "But if she ain't talkin' about another Goodness, then this old broad's got a serious issue with the worst hormonal imbalance in history or a nasty dissociative identity disorder. That's gonna take some heavy medication to undo either way."_

 _Tony blinked for just a moment, but the damage had already been done as far as Granny was concerned. "Young people," she said. "Don't you know that you're no longer with SHIELD? There's no reason to_ fight _with Granny. Not when we're all_ family _now. Hydra is your new family, little ones. But before we can move forward beyond this nastiness … Granny needs to know what it is that you naughty boys have done."_

" _That … might take a while to list off," Tony said flippantly, tipping his head to the side as Granny came toward him. "I'm a little older than I was, but I had a reputation back home …"_

 _She narrowed her eyes and gestured to the soldiers nearest Tony, who were quick to dart forward and take control of his hands, wrenching them behind his back and then cuffing them there. They dragged him and the other two out of the room and down the hall to where there were still a few intact genesis tubes full of green liquid. Before anyone even bothered to ask a question, they were shoving Tony's head under the green water and holding him there. He thrashed as the hand at the back of his head kept him from getting out of the saline water, and just when Tony was sure that was it... he felt that same hand ball up in the hair at the base of his skull and yank him back up._

 _He gasped for air, the cooling thick water clinging to his face as he tried to catch a breath_ — _only to be shoved back under as soon as he'd gotten a decent breath. Over and over, they kept dunking him until it was clear he was ready to drown, and the soldiers in green let him collapse to his knees next to the genesis tube, drenched from the dunking._

" _You will repair everything your nasty little virus did," Granny said, though when Tony didn't respond right away, the soldiers were once again dragging him to his feet to do it again._

" _Stop!" Fitz called out. "You're going to give him brain damage_ — _and if you want him to fix anything for you, he needs everything he's_ got _."_

 _Granny weighed it out for a moment, then turned back to Tony. "You will fix what you have destroyed."_

 _Tony could hear Fitz making a deal to keep Harley away from Jack_ — _insisting that he and Tony would need her. "She's a genius," Fitz insisted. "Top of her class in every subject!"_

 _But still, Tony didn't look like he was ready to play along. "I'm not the programming guy; I'm the one that builds things."_

 _Granny narrowed her eyes once again, and with another wave of her hand, the guards with her hauled Tony over to a stainless steel table that had not too long ago been used to prepare the bodies when they were injected with the chemical cocktail that included the secrets to Tahiti's consciousness transfer. They uncuffed his hands just long enough to slam him onto the table, knocking the wind out of him._

 _Before Tony could sit up, hands from all around him were pressing him down, strapping him down to the point that he couldn't move a muscle_ — _and the water from the tank was still clouding his vision, since it was_ thick _and he hadn't been able to clear his eyes._

 _The guards backed off all at once as Granny approached him, scalpel in hand. She smiled down at him, almost pleasantly, before she slowly brought the blade down to rest over the center of his chest. "Usually, the next step would be electricity, but with all this water and the metal table …" She made a tutting noise as Tony's eyes widened. She didn't have to finish the thought_ — _even out of breath and worn out, he knew both of those things would amplify even a small current. "Now. You can continue to be a willful and ungrateful child, but then Granny will have to recreate that battery that you had to light the way during your time in the arena."_

 _To emphasize her threat, she sunk the very tip of the scalpel into his skin_ — _not enough to do any real damage, but the sharp sensation and the hot, seeping feeling of the blood pooling around the blade was more than enough to send Tony right to the edge in a panic attack._

* * *

Tony paused and looked at his hands. He'd set the tools down for a moment — his fingers had started to cramp, and the truth was that he needed to stop before his panic took over when he'd started to remember what had happened. He did what he could to slow his breathing, taking slow, even breaths with his eyes closed. And just as he was starting to get his hands to stop shaking, a bright, bubbly voice called out.

"Hey, Mistah Stark… I think we got a little problem here," Harley called out. She popped onto her feet with a printout in hand and made her way over to Tony to show him what she'd found. "Am I just crazy, or is this equation entirely outta whack?"

Tony smirked crookedly. "Do you really want the answer to that?" he asked, though his tone fell when he took a peek at the equation in question. It was one of Banner's — and it was head and shoulders above anything that those in Hydra or SHIELD had been able to spot. She was right, of course, but … if it was corrected, that would be one tiny tidbit closer to the right formula.

Tony licked his lips and put an arm around Harley's shoulders as he did his best to act like he was explaining it to her. He got her all the way back to her computer before he leaned over her shoulder and let his voice drop low to just over a whisper, again reaching around her to get her to a different section of the data. "You're not wrong," he said quietly. "But I need you to ignore any other mistakes you find — might even ask you to fudge a few more that you think most people won't be able to figure out."

Harley tipped her head back and turned just enough to kiss his cheek. "You got a plan, handsome?"

"Maybe," Tony admitted. "But we'll need weapons to get out, and chances are we won't _make it_ out."

"Eh, dyin' wasn't so bad the first time," Harley said quietly. "An' as long as these losers can't bring us back to work us over … I'll bet I can help ya come up with some neat little surprises. I was real good with chemistry."

Tony raised one eyebrow. "Are you talking about actual chemistry or is that some kind of double talk?"

"Hey. Don't go startin' nothin' you can't follow up on, lover boy," Harley said with a finger in his face.

"Figure out your chemicals," Tony said quietly. "I'll get the delivery system for whatever you come up with."

"It'll be a _gas_ ," she said, giggling to herself. "Or, optimally, a well-atomized liquid for ease of manufacture."

"Atomizer. Got it," Tony said, nodding before he returned the favor and kissed her cheek. "You're amazing, Harley."

"Aww, shucks," she said, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears and grinning broadly, leaving Tony smirking to himself.

* * *

Tony was hard at work micro soldering a circuit board that would power the low-key weapons he was making that, with a little luck, would aid in their escape — or a spectacular blaze of glory. One or the other. Testing had been hard to do with the cameras on him night and day, and without a clear communication with the other two — and with completely controlled schedules — he couldn't easily coordinate on how to get a loop established in the security.

So he'd have to just trust his math, put his faith in physics, and hope like hell that the repulsors he'd made would work. He already found a way to test the atomizer, though Harley hadn't said exactly what was in her chemical compound outside of the fact that "Synthesizing these suckers is a lil' bit tricky, but I'm pretty sure that I got it figured out! Which is great because I used up the last of the 3, 4, 5-trimethoxybenzoyl chloride. But don't worry! I'm runnin' a ozonolysis of elemicin that's gettin' ready to go through reductive amination to make the same stuff." Harley shrugged and smirked crookedly as Tony simply stared back at her. "I'm gonna mix 'em fifty-fifty with the lysergic acid diethylamide that I cooked up the other day. None a that stuff's supposed to be breathed in, so wit the atomizer, them green-coated mooks oughta be flyin' real high by the time they take a few steps!"

Tony frowned when he heard what she had in store for the atomizer — especially since a lot of what she was mixin up could be readily absorbed through the skin, and therefore, they would be at risk too. "Oh, is that _all_ you've got in mind?"

"Well I was thinkin' about makin' a cyclohexanone derivative to add in there too? Somethin' that would force a dissociative state that'd really kick start some trouble for those jerks."

"Yeah… might wanna sleep on that one, partner."

"I suppose," Harley said, tipping her head to one side. "Maybe some diethyl ether instead ... "

Tony frowned but didn't argue with her on it. Not when he was very sure that she was probably on the path to decimating whoever they came across. Either one of those compounds was a nasty bit of trouble ... combined … they promised hallucinations at _best_. And a very bad trip more likely than not.

He went back to his work while Harley quietly sang a little tune that ran through the elements with surprising accuracy. None of her chemical concoction would do a bit of good if her atomizer wasn't ready to go. And along with it, the little repulsors would do the rest of the work — provided he didn't break his arm with the kickback.

He was quietly working, concentrating hard, when he felt someone standing at his shoulder. He paused what he was doing — not really wanting to drop a bit of melted solder on the wrong spot — then set the tools down as he turned to find Fitz with his hands on his hips and a little frown in place.

"Just what exactly is it that you an' Miss Quinn have arranged?" Fitz asked.

Tony glanced up at the cameras, then raised an eyebrow. "Well. Free time is free time, isn't it?"

Fitz doubled down on the irritated expression. "I don't know what it is you think you're doin', but you need to—"

"I'm making something to help us fight back," Tony said. "You said yourself you read my profile." He looked past Fitz, then got to his feet to block him from the camera as best as he was able. "What you had? What you knew? That was just the tip of the iceberg. Banner isn't the only one that knows how to freewheel something amazing tech-wise. In fact … well. You'll see."

"I want in," Fitz said. "The ICER's … they were my design. I'm sure I can come up with something similar."

Tony narrowed his eyes for a moment. "Like what?"

Fitz seemed hyper aware of the camera situation himself for just a moment as he leaned forward, looking incredibly awkward as he spoke. "I was thinking a wider range ... perhaps a grenade with the same kind of compound … a dendrotoxin. I'm just not _as_ good with explosives."

"Then today's your lucky day." Tony looked over to Harley, who waved, and then slowly turned back to Fitz as Harley giggled from her seat just a few chairs down, and Fitz turned red at the way Harley was looking him up and down.

"You boys talkin' about a three-sided team up?" Harley asked. "Might just make the time go by faster…"

Tony smirked as Fitz sputtered, and with a barked out laugh, Tony turned back to his work. One thing was for sure - either way, the three of them weren't going to be used by Hydra for long.


	6. Chapter 6: My Hands Have Touched the Sea

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Have an update. Let's check in with some Fours :D**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed for your support. Slim and Practically an Avenger, we're tickled that you love the Tony and Harley flirting. They are so hilarious together!**

 **Hail Hydra, we're gonna let you know right know that we don't subscribe to the idea that happy endings aren't interesting. This isn't the right kind of story for that anyway, not with the format meaning each individual has poured literally years of work into a character's story. We're not of the opinion that anyone's loving work should end in grimdark edgy sadness just for the sake of being "interesting." We think it's far more interesting to beat the odds against a wave of evil that seems unstoppable. Besides, how boring would it be for the country to go from one dictator to the next? That's not change or progress or interesting, in our opinion.**

* * *

 **Chapter Six - My Hands Have Touched the Sea**

 **Tahiti Hangar**

 **Kaldur Ahm, formerly of District Four**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _May our reunion be not a finding but a sweet collision of destinies!" - Jerry Spinelli, Love, Stargirl_

* * *

Ever since the declaration of revolution, Kaldur Ahm had been busy.

It wasn't the work that SHIELD had him doing before, toiling as a pack horse, a slave to their whims as they prepared to make their moves. Instead, Kaldur and Thor had taken John Constantine and had taken refuge until the wave of green had passed them by.

And then, immediately, they got to work.

Carol Danvers was dead, and their transport had been destroyed, and so they had only been able to get the scientists — Bruce Banner and Cassie Lang — to a smaller transport with a still-unconscious Raven Roth and send them to SHIELD's new base. The three remaining young men had to get to the base in District Twelve by more underhanded means. If that meant that they needed to cut down men in green uniforms in order to do so, then all the better.

In the past few days, then, Kaldur had seen the kinds of battles that he had longed for when SHIELD told him the purpose of his resurrection. He might not have been fighting the Capitol, but this new menace that called themselves Hydra was not to be ignored either. Kaldur had seen for himself the callous disregard that they had for life and for freedom. And for as much as he distrusted SHIELD, he could not stand idly by when these men handed down orders for the capture of innocents, for their enslavement.

And it was, in fact, enslavement — even moreso than what SHIELD imposed on its tributes. For all his talk of a cage being a cage no matter the size, Kaldur knew also that in a war where all sides were indefensible, there had to be a priority in addressing the evils facing them.

Kaldur would never stop reminding SHIELD of the laws of nature, or humanity, that they had broken when they resurrected tributes from the dead. But he would rather turn his hottest anger toward the Hydra soldiers that, in his time with John and Thor, he had heard speak of indoctrination, brainwashing, torture. For those tributes under Hydra's command, there was a more immediate need.

He had not needed to discuss this decision with his companions, either. While all three of them knew that they would need to get back to SHIELD eventually — to regroup and gather their strength and recruit others to the cause of freeing these trapped children — they had also established a silent agreement between them: if they came upon any of those young prisoners, they would put aside their flight to Twelve in favor of a rescue.

They had stopped often. None of the young captives had been the products of the Tahiti program, but there were many young people pressed into service all the same, and Kaldur and his companions meant to free them all if they could.

Even when the men in green were not terrorizing children, it seemed that there was no end to Hydra's evils in other regards. As all three organizations — Hydra, SHIELD, and the Capitol — scrambled to take their share of control over the districts, it seemed that Kaldur and his companions could hardly take a step in any direction without running into abuses of power.

It was difficult, choosing their battles. All three of them were exhausted — John most of all, dealing with his brand-new body. They could not fight on every front; they could not save every desperate minnow in an ocean of sharks. They were drowning in injustice, choking on it every time they tried to get their breaths.

Because of the frenetic pace, then, there had not been much time for pleasantries like conversation. Or sleep. And by their natures, Kaldur and John seemed to prefer quiet, while Thor, usually much more boisterous, was weighed down by death and the uncertainty of who would still be alive when they returned to their allies in SHIELD. They hadn't had much reason for speech.

This war was a fire, and Kaldur yearned for the calmness of the sea. Even tempests had their calm centers, and he needed to _breathe_.

Still, Kaldur and his companions had somehow managed to find a SHIELD group out on patrol and flagged them down, and now, for the first time in days, the three of them took their time breathing, getting their feet underneath them. The muffled sounds of radio transmissions were the waves that reminded them of the storm beyond them, but for now, this little transport was the eye, and they were exhausted.

Kaldur leaned his head back against the transport, its thrumming strangely calming, and the next thing he knew, a SHIELD agent had a hand on his arm to shake him awake.

"We're here."

Kaldur sat up straighter, still groggy, and glanced over to see that both of his companions appeared to be in similar straits. He met John's gaze and offered him a light smile. "We seem to have reached our limit," he said.

"Yeah, for now," John said.

Kaldur couldn't help but smile at that. He hadn't had much time to get to know John before the Games, though during the short time they had been together in the arena, he had been impressed that, of everyone in Diana's alliance, John had been the one to understand Kaldur's worldview in only a few words. Kaldur still remembered that John had been the voice of reason, the only one who understood Kaldur's request of Diana. It meant more than he could communicate to the miner.

Perhaps it was because they were both familiar with the mysteries of the deep, the dark, the unexplored. A miner was not so different from a diver, in Kaldur's estimation. A lowly position that offered a glimpse at the secrets of the earth.

They'd worked together in the short time since the revolution, and while they were too tired and too focused on the next fight, the next day's travels, to strike up conversation, Kaldur found himself glad to have John at his side. After all, Diana had trusted him. That, too, meant a great deal.

"There is still much to do," Kaldur agreed, meeting John's gaze with a nod.

"Aye," Thor agreed tiredly. "There is no rest for warriors."

"Well, maybe a little rest," John said with a quiet smirk.

Kaldur chuckled. "Yes, it seems to me that the rest we find snatched between waves is more respite than a night's sleep."

"I don't know about that," John said, one eyebrow raised. "I could use a solid eight hours."

Thor chuckled and nodded along. "There is no dishonor in being human, Kaldur Ahm."

"We were once more than that," Kaldur said softly. "We left this world once to become better; this is simply our fight to become as glorious again."

"I'd rather just focus on being the better man now," John said.

"And fighting the good fight," Thor agreed, his easy smile starting to come back to him now as the craft finally landed.

The SHIELD agents led the boys into the hangar, promising the weary warriors a warm meal and a bed for the night. "I'll be honest," one of the agents said. "We thought you were among the tributes that were killed or snatched by Hydra."

Kaldur paused and raised an eyebrow at that. "Then you know the dangers these children have faced?"

The agent nodded. "Hydra wants as many as they can get. Apparently, after Barton killed their head scientist and someone destroyed the equipment at the old facility, they lost a lot of ground on replicating the Tahiti process."

Kaldur glanced to Thor, who was wearing the same satisfied smirk that he felt on his own lips, before he nodded. "That is good, at least."

"Yeah, but they were experimenting on kids before that, trying to figure out if they could use blood memory to alter minds — essentially a new kind of brainwashing," the agent said. "And they wanted to know the limits of the process — how many times you could die and come back before not even our safeguards will drive back the insanity."

Kaldur froze at that, and he saw out of the corner of his gaze that Thor and John were similarly stopped, obviously horrified by what they heard. "They did this to children?" he breathed out. "Is that what they mean to do to those that were taken?"

"I wouldn't be surprised," the agent said, though he paused when he saw the look on Kaldur's face. "We have people out looking. It's a high priority under the new director."

"Save your words for those that would listen to you," Kaldur said, shouldering past the agent. When his companions moved to follow him, he turned their way. "Please, rest. I will join you shortly — after I am _sure_ that the moment we are refreshed, we will have SHIELD's backing to rescue these children."

"And we'll be leaving to get them even if we don't have that backing," John surmised.

Kaldur nodded his way. "Of course," he said, spinning once more on his heel before he stalked down the halls.

For all his determination, however, there was one problem: Kaldur didn't actually know where he needed to go. The halls all had the same stench of artificial cleanliness; they were grids, but they were impersonal. How was he to know where to go?

And there was the matter of the "new" director. The SHIELD agent had dropped that piece of information so casually that Kaldur had only then realized its significance. Who was he supposed to track down to make his demands?

He let his shoulders drop after a few fruitless examinations of the too-impersonal doors on the hallway he had started down. _How like Diana_ , he thought to himself, shaking his head. _Exhaustion has turned you brash and made you forget the dangers of rushing headfirst into the waves when you know nothing of the tides awaiting you there._

He had just turned around to return to his companions, sure that some rest would cure him of his brashness and that a little humility would be in order, when he heard footsteps in an adjacent hallway. He was just in time to see the newcomer round the corner, her long, dark hair moving slightly with the speed of her march, before her gaze found his and she stopped outright.

"Diana," he said in a breath without moving.

He hadn't seen her since the Games, and he hadn't known much of what had happened to her since they parted in the arena. When he left to help with the move to the new facility, she had still been fighting, hurtling toward the three remaining tributes, but so much could transpire in only a matter of hours, especially in the arena. And he hadn't paid much attention to newscasts when he had been so focused on fighting Hydra.

He didn't even know if this was Diana or if her ghost stood before him, wearing a false body as he did. More likely, she had won the Games — she had the sheer tenacity to do so, he knew — and he stood before a Prince in a body that had never known the sea.

He wondered, briefly, if she could sense it in some way — if she knew that he was a shadow of himself. She had thought him a serf before; now, he was a product of SHIELD's labs, not even Atlantean. He was less than a serf now, and he wondered how she would react when she learned the truth. He could hardly hope for the same reaction Thor had given him — lightning, as they said, did not strike twice.

"Diver," she said after a moment. "I see you are not dead."

Kaldur let out a laugh, the sound hollow even to his own ears. "I am no diver," he said. It was strange; this was the first time Diana had given him that title without a hint of derision, and yet her matter-of-fact tone seemed to strike him the wrong way. She could not possibly know the truth, then, if she still thought him worthy of that title. "Are you yourself?"

"Aye," Diana answered, and he almost smiled. He had known she would make it through the Games and prove herself; hadn't he told her as much when he died? She took a few steps toward him as she spoke: "You are yourself too, Kaldur Ahm."

He glanced down at his hands and arms. The last time he had seen her, he had been badly mutilated, dying. Now, he stood before her with but a few war wounds from the battles he had waged against Hydra, and yet even those few marks could not erase his long drought away from the sea.

"We should not be meeting here, Diana," he murmured, and she took another step closer to the body that was not his own, no doubt straining to hear him. "Do you remember what you said before I died? _Go with the tides_. My body is somewhere in our sea, but they tore my soul out before it could meet my ancestors and put me in this... _._ " He took a breath. "I haven't touched salt in this body. It is a lie."

"I knew you were a foolish man, Kaldur," Diana said evenly. "I did not think you were an idiot."

Kaldur felt the familiar anger rise in his chest at her words, the same anger he had felt when she accused him of having washed the sea salt away in the pools of the Capitol. He would have thought that, of anyone else around him, Diana Prince would understand the grave hurt that had been done to him. And instead, she tossed aside everything that he knew to be true in a single sentence.

"You may speak of Atlantean customs, but you understand nothing if you truly believe—" Kaldur caught himself and frowned when instead of rising to his anger, as she had before, Diana cupped a hand to the side of his face. "What…?"

"There. You have touched my hand now, and it has touched the sea as many times as your soul has." Diana smiled at Kaldur, continuing to speak through his obvious surprise. "Do you remember the first moment your fingers trailed into saltwater? It is a moment you never forget. Your _soul_ never forgets."

Kaldur felt the breath leave his chest, and he closed his eyes, though Diana didn't lower her hand. "It is a sacred moment," he agreed in a whisper.

"Do you not think it is the drowned gods' will that you are breathing in front of me?" Diana asked. "Do you not think that there is a _reason_ they denied you entry to their halls?" She reached up with her other hand, catching the other side of his jaw, and he steeled himself to meet her gaze for whatever was so important that she had his face in her hands. "Remember: not all come back. But _you_ did." In the silence between them, she met his gaze fully, unblinking. "I am glad you are not dead, diver. You _will_ see the sea again."

Kaldur found himself unable to find a response. He had seen gentleness from Diana in the Games, but he was so used to fighting to be heard, trying to make her see sense, that when he found himself in the face of her quiet wisdom, he felt suddenly abashed. Here he was, a child shouting at the waves and demanding fairness against an unheeding world. He had never thought Diana would be the steadier voice between them.

"There are others," Kaldur said, slowly placing his hands on Diana's to remove them from the set of his jaw. She let her hands drop to her sides, but they stood close enough that neither of them felt the need to raise their voices about a whisper — the sound almost gentle to Kaldur's ears, like the voices of the sea waves as the tides moved against them.

"I know," Diana said. "I have been in this place since the conclusion of the Games, and I have seen many of those returned to life." She shook her head. "The practice has come to an end. With Logan at the helm, it seems your words have left tremors in their wake."

"Logan?" Kaldur's eyebrows shot up as he thought of the victor who had freed him from his restraints when he had only just awoken in his new body. He thought of the understanding that he had seen between Fury and Logan and almost laughed. "That makes sense."

"You are quick to say so," Diana said, one eyebrow raised. "I thought you were so convinced that you had been wronged."

"He was there when I woke up in this body," Kaldur explained. "If he has stopped the barbaric practice of stealing souls from their rest, then I am not sorry for any words of anger that swayed his mind."

"You have always been too quick to correct, even if you see error where there is none," Diana said with a smirk.

"And you are too quick to ally yourself with the fortunes of others," Kaldur replied. When Diana frowned, he held up a hand. "I know why you did, and it will serve you well when this war comes to an end and you return to lead our people," he said. "But it is a dangerous way to lead when untempered."

"Then I shall require you to come with me," Diana said. It was no request, and it had all the force of an order behind it, something like Odin would hand down to his warriors. "I promised you would see the sea again, and I will carry you again if I have to."

Kaldur laughed at that. "Please, do not compound my embarrassment."

"I should hope I would not need to drag a diver to the sea, and yet here you stand before me, so lost in the state of your soul that you have neglected to _live_ ," Diana said.

"Is there a point to living if there is no balm for the soul?" Kaldur pointed out. "You put your focus, as ever, on the wrong thing. There are greater battles, Diana."

"And I will fight them too," Diana said. "But you cannot forget to fight the smaller ones — for they are the battles that decide the tide of the war, not your lofty words."

"I have been fighting those very battles and still managed to keep my gaze on the sea itself and not the pittance of foam that crops up in the many distractions around us," Kaldur said, drawing himself up so that he was taller than Diana, his eyes flashing. "Do not think that my understanding of the world is so uncaring that I would turn a blind eye."

"You have changed since the Games, then," Diana shot back.

"Have I?" Kaldur replied, his eyes narrowed. "I meant to protect the others by distancing myself; was that callous?"

"And I was so callous to take you in?" Diana replied, her own shoulders drawn back. "Did you learn nothing?"

"I learned that the tides of fate find ways to drag us all into their pull," Kaldur said. "And that you are stubborn even in the face of those tides."

"Perhaps we are meant to swim against the waves at times — or how would we ever leave the shore?"

Kaldur waved a hand at her. "We are talking in circles," he said. "And I have battles yet to fight." He paused and considered Diana. "I would ask you to join me, if you can stand to fight by my side."

Diana tipped her chin up. "I would fight alongside a warrior of Four," she said.

Kaldur smirked lightly. "To be honest, this fight would suit you, Diana," he said in a much less confrontational tone, one that had her raising a single eyebrow. "I have my own allies now and my own fight."

"I never thought I would see the day," Diana said, her tone almost light.

Kaldur let out a breath of a laugh. "Say what you will," he said. "But we have fought to follow Hydra's men and kill as many as we could, even as they kidnapped _children_." He paused. "I see why you brought John Constantine into your trust. He is a valued companion, and he understands honor and justice."

He could see Diana's breath catch, and she stopped fully to face him. "John?"

He nodded gently. "He has fought valiantly beside me. Thor Odinson is our third companion. And before I saw you here, I meant to find someone in SHIELD that could hear what I have to say, what information I have to give, so that we can continue to chase those captive children and liberate them from a slavery even worse than SHIELD's."

Diana stood before him, inscrutable, for a long moment before she nodded at last. "Aye," she said. "I will join you. I would be honored to fight with any one of you — but combined, I doubt there is anyone who could stand before us."

"They have certainly fled before three lost souls," Kaldur said. "Imagine what they would do before a queen."

"You think too little of yourself, Kaldur Ahm," Diana said. "Whatever honor you think you lack, I know that you will find it at my side in this war." She stood a little taller, a sharp look in her gaze. "Now then, let us not waste our time. If there are innocent lives to be spared, we must gain our supplies and transportation and make our plans with haste. And I would speak with all of our companions as well."

"They will follow you, as I will," Kaldur said, inclining his head. It was the nearest thing he had ever given her to deference, to a bow, and it stopped Diana in her tracks before a smile spread over her features.

"Then I am honored to lead you."


	7. Chapter 7: Raised Voices

**(A/N): Hello, and welcome back to our Tuesday update! This time, we're going to take a second to check in on some of the victors...**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have reviewed for your continued support and massive enthusiasm. We love you all! Thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for your rockstar support (we also like Kaldur's simmering anger). To StarKnightStark: Yes, Harley is a psychiatrist in the comics, and we've paid homage to that in the previous installment with her psychoanalysis of various characters (including Sabretooth!). Her knowledge of different drug and chemical interactions is also a homage to that, since psychiatrists are different than psychologists in that they get medical training... though obviously in this universe, she's self-taught more than anything and just dabbling in whatever information she can get her hands on. But since she's self-taught and obviously brilliant, we wanted to give her plenty of credit in being able to work out the logic of equations. After all, math is a universal language no matter the specific field of study! ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Seven - Raised Voices**

 **Peter Quill**

 **Twenty-First Victor of the Avenger Games**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

Peter Quill was grateful that the doctors hadn't asked any questions at first when he brought Gamora with him to the base; she was badly injured enough that they were more focused on keeping her alive than on questioning his motives.

Admittedly, there was every possibility that they thought he had saved her so that they could question her about the inner workings of the Capitol. And he wouldn't be surprised if the SHIELD agents that had stationed themselves outside of Gamora's door as soon as they realized who was in the little hospital room were there to tell the higher-ups as soon as Gamora was awake so they could do just that — and get as much intel as they could on the best ways to get to the remaining Capitol flunkies. Or how to get into the palace, where Schmidt thought sitting on the throne made him king.

But Peter hadn't brought her for tactical reasons — well, outside of the tactics of trying to get another kiss, if he was going to be honest about it. If that counted as tactics.

For the first little while after he brought her in, Peter didn't have anything to do but sit there and soak in the information as it came in. Some of his friends were dead — Drax, Groot… no one knew where Rhodey was, and Peter had liked the guy…

SHIELD had been prepared to take down the Capitol swiftly and efficiently, and that's what they did. The problem was that Hydra wasn't even on their radar until it was almost too late, and now, the revolution had turned into a civil war. So if Gamora could give them a way to strike back when Hydra had wormed itself into Thanos' strongholds, that was good. Peter knew it was good.

He just didn't exactly care about intel until Gamora had finally started to wake up after whatever drug cocktail the doctors had pumped into her — and then he tried to look a little less like he'd been worried and a little more suave and heroic.

Gamora frowned when she saw him, though she wasn't yet strong enough to sit up as well as she'd like, pushing herself on her elbows as she peered at him. "Peter?"

"Oh hey, princess," he said with a crooked smile. "I was wondering how many times I'd have to kiss you before you'd wake up. I mean … I haven't done that ... yet. But I was just … waiting for you to look like you were waking up first. And … it would have … been _inappropriate_ for me to try that. Without, you know, warning."

Gamora shook her head at him. "What are you talking about?"

"You know … the princess that was sleeping in the tower? Guarded by a dragon? Love's … ah… nevermind. Probably not the kind of story you want to hear anyhow. I carried you out — after the bomb went off." He sniffed and thumbed the side of his nose. "You know. At the palace."

Gamora frowned at that and looked around, suddenly trying to sit up faster. "Where are we, Peter?" she demanded.

"New SHIELD base," Peter said matter-of-factly as he pulled his chair a little closer. "Um, I should tell you … your sister and your dad are both dead."

"Nebula?" Gamora's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Are you sure? She's not easy to kill — nor is my father."

"Yeah, she … was pretty torn up from that bomb, and one of our special ops guys cut Thanos' hand off — with the gauntlet. _After_ he was dead."

Gamora leaned back and considered him for a long moment. "Then we were successful," she said.

"In overthrowing the Capitol, yeah, but we're not the only ones in the game," Peter told her. "Hydra is making a big push."

"Hydra was destroyed in the war that granted my father his throne," Gamora said. "What are you talking about?"

"Hydra is making a resurgence," he corrected her. "The Red Skull and Viper in particular."

Gamora sneered as she pulled herself to a sitting position. "They always had ambitions beyond their station."

"Well they're the new Hydra — and it's a lot bigger than we thought," Peter said. "They made a play, went for Fury, raised all kinds of hell, killed some victors, broke into … everything." He shook his head. "It's a mess. But the war is on."

"And yet with all of that, you are here," Gamora said.

He blinked a few times, trying to hold her gaze. "Well … yeah. Of course I am. Where else would I be?"

Gamora almost couldn't help but smile at that. "You _are_ a victor," she said. "Or did they ask you to guard me? I am a daughter of Thanos."

"What? No … no… I just … I wanted to be here when you woke up." By the time he'd finished speaking, he was staring at his hands, and his tone had gone rather quiet.

Gamora's smile softened, and she leaned forward slightly to rest her hand on his arm. "That wasn't necessary," she said.

"There's more to life than just what's necessary," Peter said almost sullenly.

"And that is why you're in my hospital room," Gamora said, though she hadn't moved her hand.

"I'm _here,_ " Peter said, still staring at his hand, "because I wanted to be. And you _know_ why."

Gamora watched Peter for a long moment and then let out a breath and leaned forward more until she was resting her chin on his shoulder so she could kiss his cheek. "Thank you, Peter."

He couldn't stop the smile if he'd tried — and there was no way he was going to try. "You're welcome," he said with a little nod. "So … whenever you feel up to it, I can take you down to the director's office so you can fill him in on what's what." He turned her way with a little smirk. "No rush, of course."

"I'd rather not languish in a medical room," she told him. She paused, raised an eyebrow his way, and then said with a smirk, "Unless there is a cell waiting for me. Then I understand your reluctance."

"No, I think you're in the clear," Peter said. "I told them how the fight went down — and the new guy knows all about the work you did for Fury."

She frowned for a moment. "Then Fury didn't survive this fight."

"No, there was an assassination squad looking for him," Peter confirmed.

"And this new director — do you trust him?" Gamora asked.

Peter couldn't help but smile crookedly. "Oh yeah. We're good. We've even had drinks a few times."

Gamora raised her eyebrows at that. "I wasn't aware Phil Coulson had ambitions beyond his team."

"Agent Dad? No. no, no no… no, he's … he's still in the same position." Peter pulled the wheelchair over. "Come on; we'll get things rolling."

"Really, Peter?"

"These are the jokes, Princess," he said, still smiling. "Work with me."

"I'm not getting in that thing," she said, looking at the chair with distaste. But it was hard to argue her point when she tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed and one of them wasn't cooperating with her — broken at the femur and in a heavy cast. And on her ankle on the other foot — a heavy boot.

"I told you — you were caught up in that blast," Peter said. "I was worried for a minute there."

"It takes more than a simple explosion to kill me," she said, waving him off, though when it was clear she couldn't get out on her own, she let out a breath of frustration and reached for him to steady herself. " _Fine_."

"A simple explosion took out your sister," Peter said in a serious tone as he helped her get settled, even trying to make sure she had a lap blanket as he adjusted everything.

"She spared my life," Gamora said quietly, though her gaze seemed to be elsewhere.

"I would have gotten her out if she was still alive," Peter promised.

"Would you?" Gamora asked, looking up at him.

"Of course," Peter said, frowning at her. "She's your sister."

"She wouldn't kiss you for your trouble, Peter."

"No, and I wouldn't want her to … but maybe …" He shrugged lightly before he started pushing her out of the room, letting the rest of his thought hang in the air between them.

Gamora had fallen into a deep frown as they passed the SHIELD agents outside her room, and if he didn't know better, he'd have thought she was almost pouting as he wheeled her down the hall. "This is undignified."

"What? No," he said, shaking his head lightly. "The guys stuck in traction — _that's_ undignified. You're _totally_ hot wheels, babe."

"Really, Peter." She smirked but shook her head.

"Oh yeah, without a doubt," he said as convincingly as he could before he leaned down over her shoulder. "We could race someone if you want. Slap a number on your chair … I'll call it."

Gamora smiled at that and put a hand on his cheek. "No, that's even worse."

"You sure?" he teased before he let his voice sound more like an announcer, though he was mercifully quiet about it. "And it's the princess on the inside turn; she's running the field — no one can get close…."

Gamora let out a laugh that it didn't sound like she could keep to herself. "Stop that!" she said, though she couldn't stop the smile all the same.

He was going to keep it up, but he simply smiled a little wider and kissed her cheek. "Whatever you say, Princess."

"That is somehow worse," she said with a light laugh. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?" he asked, honestly confused at what she meant.

"Find ways to listen to me without listening to me," she said. "I'm not asking you to stop, of course. It's a gift, clearly."

He smiled a little wider and kissed her again. "Guess I'll have to keep trying."

* * *

 **Johnny Storm**

 **Eleventh Victor of the Avenger Games**

* * *

A lot of the victors that had survived the initial rebellion were busy running errands for SHIELD, but Sue and Reed hadn't really moved from where they'd parked with Franklin after SHIELD got them to the base in Twelve.

And Johnny really wasn't complaining about that much, but he was still steamed about _why_ his sister was so wrapped up in her little boy. It wasn't just that she wanted to spoil her son; he knew that she was still upset over Reed's revelation that Malcolm Merlyn had been threatening him.

So was Johnny. Only he was _directing_ his anger, and he'd been working with John Stewart and Shayera Hol — and Ben, too, though Ben was bouncing between checking on Reed and Sue and joining the little group.

A lot of the intel available was still shaky, since the revolution had upended the status quo. It was hard to tell who was with Hydra, who was loyal to the fallen Capitol, and who was simply running their own games in the power vacuums that had cropped up with so many people in power dying or going missing. But eventually, Shayera had confirmed it: Merlyn was with Hydra.

Which simplified things, really, because Johnny was itching for a fight. And if he got to blow up some guys in green uniforms in the meantime, all the better.

The thing was… they didn't know where _in_ Hydra the guy was. And Johnny _hated_ being patient.

"We'll find him," Shayera said, though her own annoyance was clear to see as she massaged her forehead. "He can't hide forever."

"What's the point of getting Hydra defectors in here if we don't learn anything _useful_?" Johnny muttered, kicking a box of intel before he winced.

"Nice," Ben said.

"Aww, shut up, Ben."

Ben snorted at that, shifting as he looked over the maps of the different districts that they knew were controlled by Hydra, showing various strongholds and troop placements. "Not my fault you're a danger to yourself, matchstick."

John cut in before the two of them could get going as they usually did. "Most of Hydra is concentrated in either the Capitol or Six," he said. "They're trying to fill the throne Thanos left behind — and there's practically a cult of personality following Schmidt. A bunch of his most fanatical followers are in his home district."

Ben shook his head. "Not Merlyn's style," he said. "He's not a follower; he's out for himself. And he's definitely not going to align himself with someone that wouldn't look twice at Thea before he shot her, not with what Reed said about how he was about his girl."

Johnny nodded his agreement. "Yeah, he's probably holed up in the Capitol trying to live up the high life as much as he can."

"If he was on Hydra's side when they swept through the upper Capitol… he probably is," John said. "They have a pretty solid hold there."

"Typical," Johnny grumbled. "We did all the work killing the Capitol hot shots, and they sweep in to take the spoils of war."

"Not the point," Shayera said with a sharp look Johnny's way. "There's no real power in the Capitol anymore — nothing but luxuries to be wasted on Hydra heads who don't want to get their hands dirty."

"As much as I'd like to say that sounds like Merlyn," Ben said, "that isn't quite his style either."

"Oh?" Shayera raised both of her eyebrows as she turned toward Ben. "I thought you said he was one of One's richest."

"With a talent for violence that he's not gonna keep locked up," Ben said. "Guy like that ain't gonna sit on a throne until he's gotten some blood on his knuckles."

"That actually helps us," John said. "If he's not in Six or the Capitol, he has to be part of a smaller enclave."

"And those are easier to search," Shayera agreed, leaning almost unconsciously toward John as they put their heads together. It was plain to see that the two of them were more than partners, but they were subtle about it, brushing hands on occasion or sitting close enough to each other to be touching without going so far as to drape their arms around each other.

It didn't take a genius to figure it out, though it helped that Johnny knew from experience that Shayera had a personal bubble the size of a planet, so seeing the two of them that close to each other was a dead giveaway to someone with inside knowledge.

Still, Johnny appreciated that they weren't the sappy kind of couple. They knew how to get down to business, and that was what he needed so he could track down the guy who had threatened his nephew — and then Johnny would set the guy on _fire_.

"I suggest we start here," John said, tapping a spot on the map that indicated a larger enclave in District Five. "It's close enough to Six that the Hydra heads would offer them a little protection, but even with Five under Hydra control, there is plenty of fighting at the borders."

"Then let's go," Ben said, getting to his feet. "Even if Merlyn ain't there, that should mean plenty of green suits to clobber."

Johnny nodded. "Yeah. If we have to go through this whole country district-by-district and take down the whole of Hydra by ourselves to get there—"

"Delusions of grandeur, matchstick."

"Shut up, Grimm."

* * *

 **Victor Creed**

 **Eighteenth Victor of the Avenger Games**

* * *

There were few things that Victor Creed disliked more than the royal family. But Hydra? Hydra was absolutely on that very short list. He'd been warned well about what kind of a rule Hydra would have if they ever came into power. His own father had been involved in the organization years and years ago, and when Hydra fell, he took it out on his family. Ol' Zebadiah had been loyal … and when Hydra shattered, so did Zeb. And the only ones that were around for him to take his rage out on was his family. Of course, once Victor was big enough to fight back at all, his father had met a grisly fate.

Since the revolution started, Victor had been having a hell of a time getting anything done. SHIELD had monopolized the airwaves to broadcast the _truth_ , and that had caused Victor a lot of trouble. No one wanted to serve him — both women and men alike were giving him the cold shoulder — until of course he started introducing himself by killing the first person in the room that gave him a sideways look.

That actually hadn't been too bad for Victor. Kept things quiet. Got him what he wanted quick. He was working his way slowly toward home, and though he'd gotten out of the Capitol, he was only partway through District One, seein' as he was making his way on foot. The residents there were already terrified by what was going on around them, so a little extra terror from Mr. Mean wasn't going to tip the scales too much.

What he didn't know as he made himself comfortable with a rather large steak in front of him was that One was already falling under Hydra control — and that several of their best scientists were trying to make do there. Something else that was of interest … they needed some of the minerals to continue their experiments to test the boundaries of what the human body could tolerate. And though Victor didn't exactly understand all of it … he knew he didn't want to let these bottom feeders keep breathing.

He watched as the scientists tried to keep their discussion private. He slowly nursed his drink and used one finger to stir the ice cubes slowly in the nearly empty rocks glass before he finally finished it and got up to leave.

He knew he wanted to kill them; he just really had no desire to tip them off to that fact. So he did what he liked to do when dealing with undesirables and slipped into a dark alley to watch the door — and wait for his prey to show itself.

He went through four cigarettes before the two coke-bottle glasses-wearing scientists stepped out of the bar, their heads together as they worked toward their destination. All of the high security of the Capitol had been stripped to nothing when the royals fell — and those that had pledged themselves to Thanos' cause had all shifted their allegiance to SHIELD or Hydra — or had simply done a runner. Which meant that Hydra wasn't in control of the facilities to the same degree of security that SHIELD and the Capitol had set up. Which played well for Victor, anyhow.

He watched as the doctors slipped past two heavily armed guards, and after waiting a few beats, Victor rushed toward the guards — silent until the last few steps as he turned the corner. One guard met his end with a simple broken neck _after_ Victor used his partner as a human shield. Only half a dozen shots were fired, but the guard that had pulled the trigger was clearly upset — which was all Victor needed to toss the dead weight aside and kill him.

From there, it was a cake walk. Victor adjusted his long, flowing trenchcoat as he stepped into the lab, striding forward in a purposeful gait. There were several doors — all of them with the lights off — as he approached, until he got to the end of the hall, where a sliver of light was illuminating the floor. There were no guards posted outside, which meant either they were inside or they simply didn't have the staffing for this facility that Victor thought they should.

He watched for a moment before he pushed the doors open and slipped inside, though his first look around the place wasn't really anything he wanted to see. It certainly explained a lot... but none of it was something he thought Hydra should have at their fingertips.

Dead tributes — all of whom looked freshly whole — with monitors attached to them showing signs of life. Victor could feel his frustration in the back of his throat as he looked around ... but there, on a slab pulling and panicking against his restraints was a familiar face. Creed smirked when he saw _who_ it was that these docs were playing games with.

James Rhodes, the last victor from Three, was already injured, immobilized and attached to monitors as the doctors worked checked their leads and lines …

"I think he's an acceptable candidate to test on," one of them said ."He's in similar condition to the children that came out of the Games; if our calculations are correct, then we'll know right away."

"And if _your_ calculations are wrong?" the other said. "I suppose it's no great loss. He's not the genius that Goodness has down the way, but, Cornelius — he isn't a waste either. We can make use of him without killing him first."

"They want results, Hugo," Cornelius replied. "And we don't have time to find another suitable candidate. Victors don't grow on trees, you know."

"Anyone want my opinion on it?" Rhodes said as he looked between the two bespectacled doctors, but the two of them barely gave Rhodes a moment's glance before they started to pull out their tools, talking about the proper samples before Cornelius put a rather large looking needle in Rhodes' arm — right where the trackers for the Games had always gone.

Sticking to the deepest shadows in the poorly lit room, Victor made his way a little closer, examining the two ex-tributes from the Quarter Quell … another one from Three and a crappy Career that never had a real shot. Victor's lip curled on seeing it. Clearly, Hydra wanted braniacs and fighters. And as usual, they were looking in all the wrong places. Putting aside his pride for the moment, Victor pressed on as Rhodes fought his restraints. They weren't going to put him to sleep — instead, they were approaching with a hypodermic needle loaded with a nefarious-looking green liquid.

To catch their attention, Victor reached over and wrapped one overly large hand around the throat of the boy nearest him. If the tag on the boy's IV bag was to go by, and if Victor had his way, Francisco here wasn't gonna open his eyes again anyhow.

When the monitors went off, screaming their warnings, Victor pressed harder. Even unconscious, the body under his hand jerked and stretched as it tried to catch a breath — until it simply didn't.

The two doctors looked up in clear alarm, though when they spotted Victor, they didn't react anywhere near fast enough to save their little Francisco. One of them shouted out for the guards, but Victor wasn't paying attention to their cries for help as he picked up the IV stand and swung it like a baseball bat, splitting the skull of the shorter, bald, four-eyed creep — and silencing him at once.

Cornelius staggered backward, losing his footing as Creed bared down on him. "I can give you anything you want — anything that Hydra can offer — but if you harm me, you'll never leave this place!"

Victor smirked more crookedly at that and caught the little weasel by the ankle before hoisting him closer. "Issat so?" he nearly crooned. "Seems to me like you don't got a way to stop me, and Hydra ain't never helped anyone but Hydra."

Cornelius made a mad swing with the loaded needle, missing Victor's neck by mere millimeters, though it caught in the collar of his coat. He depressed the plunger, thinking he'd hit solid flesh only depositing the greed liquid on Victor's collarbone and chest. Not that it wasn't nasty on the skin, though. On contact, the liquid burned, and in a rage, Victor wrapped his free hand around Cornelius' face and slammed him against the floor several times — even after the scientist went limp.

Whatever the liquid was, it burned. Victor couldn't get the coat, his shirt, or the leftover liquid off of him fast enough. It was burning a path on everything that it touched, leaving angry, bubbling lesions in its wake. Not until he'd found the sink and spent a solid several minutes rinsing it with cold, clear water did Victor even register that Rhodes was asking him for _help._

"Come on, Creed, let me up," Rhodes said as Victor seemed to get his bearings in order. "We gotta trash this place and get out of here."

For a moment, Victor smiled to himself, his back still to Rhodes. Yeah. He _could_ help Rhodes, but the guy was a first class snob from Three that had never looked Victor's way without an expression of pure judgement. What the _hell_ would he want to help a guy like that for?

"I don't know what makes you think we're on the same side," Victor said as he turned back toward Rhodes. "We never have been."

"What do you mean?" Rhodes asked, frowning up at him, clearly alarmed, if his heart rate was anything to go by. "If you're not with Hydra, you're with us. That's all it's boiled down to now."

Victor smiled wider and slowly shook his head. "Why do guys like you always think there's only two choices in life?" he mused as he walked toward the other tribute in the room. Slade Wilson was not yet awake, but his monitor beeped along steadily. "Some of us, _Rhodey_ , make our own way." He walked past Rhodes and started knocking things over, trashing the lab and spilling chemicals as he went. Rhodes couldn't do more than simply stare in horror as Victor lit up another cigarette, took a long drag, and then tossed the still burning zippo lighter into a puddle of alcohol on the floor near Slade.

The fire took off fast, climbing the sheets on the bed and lighting up the still sleeping tribute, and though the fire burned hot, it wasn't enough to burn through the leather restraints that held Slade there as he woke up very shortly.

And Victor watched the whole thing lazily, he dropped more fuel into the growing fire before he approached Rhodes with a grin. "You're not gettin' outta here either, flyboy."

* * *

 **Bruce Wayne**

 **District Twelve**

* * *

There were still times when Bruce saw Helena that the relief took his breath away. Relief that she hadn't been killed, relief that she was at his side, relief that she was _alright_.

And there were times that he could also see his own anger reflected in her expression, at the injustice of everything that had led up to that moment. Those moments were particularly stronger when they _weren't_ helping in the districts to fight Sentinels or sabotage Hydra — the days when they were on home base and could see the human cost of everything Nick Fury had built.

Bruce understood all too well the difficult decisions that Fury had to make, but that didn't make the consequences any less real. There were children on that base with lasting mental damage — like the girl from Eleven. Bruce had checked on her himself a few times, and she didn't seem to be recovering at all. Or Dick, to a smaller extent.

It was clear to see how much the new body bothered Dick. While Bruce was certainly glad that there were no more _lasting_ mental issues — he had read about Silver Fox, for example — he knew that Helena was as angry as he was when she saw her brother struggle to get his strength back when he should have been by their side, fighting in the rebellion with them from the start.

It was one of the things that he appreciated most about James — no, Logan — and his new direction as the director of SHIELD. He wasn't willing to subject these children — or anyone else, for that matter — to the process again, not when he knew how hard it was on them.

Still, Bruce was frustrated that James — _Logan_ — found himself on the front lines so often, even if he appreciated his need to lead by example. "It's one thing to join a battle and another thing entirely to disappear on a vendetta," Bruce said with a frown. "What is he thinking?"

Helena was the only one around to hear his frustrations, but she wasn't the one who had brought the news of Logan's little side mission to him. That came courtesy of Clint Barton, who had a strange sort of affinity for Bruce and his family by that point… and who seemed to be endlessly entertained by the fact that Coulson and his team were actively trying to prevent another outing by the new director.

Helena, on the other hand, looked far less entertained as she narrowed her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't know that he _is_ thinking about the consequences," she said.

"Clearly," Bruce said in an irritated tone.

"It's worse when he thinks he's helping someone else by sacrificing himself," Helena said, her eyes narrowed further still.

Bruce frowned at her. "Kitten?"

Helena let her shoulders drop for only a moment, a sign of her frustration when she wasn't even trying to hold up her usual posture. "You saw the parachute he sent."

"I saw both of them, yes," he said. "I was glad to see it — and I have to say, throwing in his own winnings was a stroke of genius."

"What?"

Bruce raised an eyebrow. "He didn't tell you—"

"We haven't talked since I went into the arena," Helena admitted. She shook her head, some of the frustrated tone returning. "If I'd known that…"

"He knew we were about to stage a revolution. I doubt money matters were high on his list of priorities," Bruce pointed out.

Helena shook her head again. "No, you don't understand, Dad," she explained. As she spoke, some of the anger returned to her eyes, and she leaned forward. "I'm sure the Capitol edited it when I told Harley and Pamela, but the Capitolites who donate to the Games ... they ask for _favors_ in return." Her expression twisted, clearly showing what she thought of the practice. "This whole time, the victors were expected to — to _whore themselves out_ for sponsors and for the Capitol."

"What." Bruce shook his head. "There's no way that the Nicholas Fury I knew—"

"Logan told me. He admitted what was going on while we were still in the Capitol," Helena said, her voice rising. "And you saw the cast he gave Dick and the string he gave me. Do you really think he didn't have to do _so much more_ than putting in his own money with the multiplier rule in effect?"

For a long time, Bruce was silent — though that was honestly an indication of just how furious he was as Helena's words rang in the air between them. And then, in an instant, he got to his feet. "I'm going to talk to him."

"I'll go with you," Helena said — and Bruce knew better than to argue with her.

It took next to no time for Bruce to find Logan, since all he had to do was find Agent Skye trying her best to play bodyguard for the new director, and Logan would be nearby. Unless, of course, he had slipped out again on some dangerous mission he seemed determined to take on only for himself.

Bruce's eyes flashed in irritation as he let himself into the room, where Logan looked worn down and frustrated, fresh off a meeting with Charles Xavier on what needed to happen to help Kate Bishop get her mind back.

"I know that the Capitol took a lot from you, Logan, but now is not the time to leave the rebellion leaderless to chase down old allies," Bruce said, his arms crossed over his chest.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," Logan said, holding both hands up. "And the girls ... well... Two of 'em are givin' us some decent intel, anyway."

"No, of course you're not going anywhere; you've already done what you wanted," Bruce said. "And I don't doubt you'll stay here — until another personal matter comes up." He shook his head. "You're in charge of thousands of people; you can't be so narrow-minded."

Logan watched him for a long moment and leaned back. "I told you, I'm not goin' anywhere else unless it's a big push — all hands on deck."

"That's hard to believe," Helena put in, her eyes flashing. "You haven't let anything stop you before from putting yourself in compromising positions."

"Hey, Hel," Logan said, clearly just to rile her. "Glad to see you up, around, and more or less back to yourself."

"It's Helena," she said, almost automatically. She shook her head and pointed her finger his way. "And just so we're clear — in case the Capitol edited out what I had to say — if you _ever_ make me feel like your pimp again, I _will_ put an arrow in you."

Logan closed his eyes and let out a long breath. "Now how the hell'm I supposed to control how anyone feels?"

"Start by not selling yourself," Helena shot back. "I didn't ask you for help. I didn't _want_ your help, especially knowing the price tag."

"You didn't have to ask. And it didn't go down like that," Logan said, holding her gaze. "You can relax."

"Then what happened?" Helena said. "And don't just wave me off like a child, either. I know even putting your own winnings in, if you got something for both of us, there had to be a price. I'm not naive enough to think it was easy. Or worth it."

"Like hell it wasn't worth it." Logan looked more irritated at that. "There was a price. And I was happy to make sure it was paid. I kept it on the up an' up as much as humanly possible. Played it clean. All I ended up havin' to do was to save someone's life. So like I said: you can relax."

"Whose life?" Bruce asked.

"Selene Gallio," Logan said.

Bruce nearly sneered at that. "Why you'd even _talk_ to her…"

"When she was spendin' every spare second she had hangin' off of me and followin' me around, it was hard not to," Logan said. "Not like I could tell her to stick it."

"And she asked you to keep her safe in the revolution?"

Logan paused, then tipped his head. "Once it started, yeah."

But Bruce narrowed his eyes at that. "And what was the original deal?"

"Doesn't matter," Logan said.

"It does to me," Helena insisted. "It matters to me what you had to do _in my name_."

But when Logan refused to answer, Skye stepped in. "He traded her for a favor. An _open_ favor."

"An open favor with _Selene Gallio_?" Bruce looked almost thunderstruck. "Do you know what kind of a position that put you in? Especially considering the fact that you were close enough to the director of SHIELD that he named you his successor?"

"No one outside of Coulson and Hill knew that," Logan said.

"It's okay," Skye said, though her tone was sarcastic. "Agent May already read him the riot act. I'm sure _that_ got through to him and he won't do something stupid again."

"Still not convinced the friggin' surgery wasn't payback for that," Logan grumbled.

"What surgery?" Helena asked.

"Dick didn't tell you?" Logan asked with a little frown as he flexed his hands before he waved it off. "Nevermind. It's not important anyhow."

"He's been busy," Helena said, her tone equal parts defensive and annoyed with Dick. "What surgery?"

Logan looked from Bruce to Skye, then shook his head before, instead of saying anything, he simply popped the claws on one hand for a moment, giving them a chance to see the shining, razor sharp edges before he retracted them again. "Anything else you wanna get off your chest?"

"Who authorized — don't answer that," Bruce said, his voice tight as he paced a small path. "Damn Fury for dying without answering for the mess he left in his wake."

"Nothin' anyone can do about it now," Logan said. "But if you wanna keep yellin' — don't break your stride."

Bruce let out a noise of frustration as he gestured to Logan. "This is what I was talking about," he said. "Fury treated you — all of you — as disposable at worst and pawns at best. And you still treat yourself that way, James!"

Logan squared up with him and let his voice drop low. "Don't know if you ever caught the way things were back home? But that's _always_ been the case. No reason to change it now."

"You're supposed to be different from Fury," Bruce replied just as low. "That doesn't stop just because you're the one on the line."

"I'm doing everything I can for the bigger picture," Logan said. "But unlike him, the only one I'm willing to _risk_ is me."

"Then you still don't understand your own value," Bruce said.

"I understand I'm not any better than anyone else. Don't matter any more than anyone else either."

"And you deserve the same defense as everyone else," Bruce pointed out. "You're completely overlooking your own value, your own humanity."

"I _know_ what's expected of me." Logan held up his hands. "I can't undo this. Or anything that goes with it. That ship sailed a long time ago." He let out a breath and dropped into a chair, pulling over a few fresh maps in an attempt to drop the subject. "What the hell do you want me do about it anyhow?"

"I want you to be more than what you were told you are," Bruce said, shaking his head as he put a hand on Helena's shoulder. "I'm only sorry you believe all that you've been told by SHIELD or the Capitolites. Or your grandfather."

Logan looked up at him and shook his head lightly. "Haven't seen a damn thing to the contrary."

"Then you're as blind as the bats in my basement," Bruce said with a quiet, mirthless smile as he turned to leave. "But if you won't respect my opinion of you, I can't change that."

"Never said I didn't respect your opinion," Logan said. "I just don't know what to do with it."

"And deaf as well as blind," Helena said with the same expression Bruce was wearing. "Come on, Dad; he won't listen." She tipped her chin up as she strode out of the room, and Bruce let out a weary sigh as he followed her.


	8. Chapter 8: Bigger Than My Body

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Let's check in with robbiepoo2341's Nightwing, shall we?**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed as well as to Slim Summers2002 and StarKnightStark for the reviews. We're glad you're enjoying this! (By way of information... Carol actually died in "When Blood Calls For Blood," in Kaldur's "Still Waters" chapter.)**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight- Bigger Than My Body**

 **Dick Grayson, formerly of District Seven**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Yes, I'm grounded. Got my wings clipped. I'm surrounded by all this pavement." -_ John Mayer, "Bigger Than My Body"

* * *

For the first little while after the revolution started, all Dick wanted to do was sleep. He felt like he was perpetually exhausted — though when he asked some of the other kids like Kurt and Peter, who had gone through this whole thing before, they told him that was normal. He had to build his endurance back up.

It was endlessly frustrating. There was a fight just _waiting_ for him to join it, and here he could hardly make it through the training he was pushing for himself. His sister and Bruce had been all the way to the _Capitol_ , for crying out loud. They had been part of the extraction team for the _assassination of Thanos_.

And Dick ... Dick was doing pushups and pull-ups and trying to force his body to remember everything he'd known before.

Part of his problem, he knew, was that he was far too impatient. He wanted to have everything back _now_ , because he couldn't wrap his head around not being able to do all the tricks he was used to doing.

Thankfully, he still remembered the steps. Even the things that had become second nature, if he thought hard enough, he could recreate. He couldn't quite do what Logan had caught him doing back in the Capitol, balancing on a chair with one hand… but he could do a handstand and even work up to one hand — for a little while.

It was a small victory, and he knew he should have been pleased with it. But all he could think about was the fact that he was so _behind_.

He knew that Bruce wanted him out in the field with him, fighting against the Capitol. And Bruce was already out there with Helena ... without him. Those two had always been a good team, but now, it was even harder to watch those two leave while he went to the gym.

He should be there. He should be helping Bruce. He should be out there having his sister's back.

And he did ask. He asked that SHIELD guy, Coulson, because the other kids that had already been in the program for a while said that he was the guy to go to. But Coulson said he wasn't going to send anyone out to fight who wasn't ready. He was grateful that Dick had gotten out of the Capitol with Logan and that he'd been able to fight in _that_ fight, but until he had his feet underneath him more fully and could _prove_ that he wasn't going to wear out too fast...

And so Dick had been forcing himself through a rigorous training schedule. He needed to get it back. He _had_ to get it back.

If he could just _get out there_ , if he could _fight_ , he'd have something to think about, something to plan for, something to look _forward_ to instead of circling the base in limbo with nothing to think about but how much he wanted to move. If he moved, he didn't feel trapped. Because when he did feel trapped… Even in this new body, he could almost feel the blood trickling down his arms. Phantom pains that shouldn't have existed with new skin but were there all the same.

Of course, pushing himself to the limit every day wasn't without its consequences, and when his alarm went off that morning, he was surprised to see someone else's hand reach over to turn it off. He blinked sleepily, wondering if he was having some kind of odd dream — wouldn't that just be typical of his stressed-out brain to even _dream_ about getting up and training — until he felt the bed dip as Kory shifted to make herself comfortable beside him and lay her hand on his shoulder.

"I know you want to train," she said in a breath over his shoulder, "but you must rest as well."

"I just did," he pointed out, though it was hard to argue with her when she'd pulled the covers over both of them and was gently drawing the tips of her fingers over his shoulders and upper back, drawing designs.

"Dick," she said gently, "I know you will earn back all that you lost, but you cannot do it in a single day, or even a week."

"There's a war on, Kory."

"Yes, there is," she agreed. "And you've seen the leadership we have as they work to allow _all_ of us to help where we can. Do you really think your own mentor will leave you out of the fight simply because you cannot scale a tree as well as you did before? Others are fighting. Just because you cannot run the most dangerous missions with your father and sister does not mean you cannot help."

Dick let out a breath. He knew that Kory was right, especially since Logan had already suggested that he focus on helping the other kids from their Games to come to terms with their own situations. But he didn't know how to explain to Kory that it wasn't the same —it wasn't like being out there with Bruce, with Helena.

 _I wasn't able to be there with Helena in the Games. I can't let her fight a war without me. I can't read the reports, the lists of the dead, like it's the lightshow in the sky. I can't just wait for her to die away from me._

 _Both or neither. It's the same in war as it was in the Games._

But he didn't say that. What he said was: "I already talked to Coulson—"

"I know," Kory said. "I've spoken with him as well." When he turned around so he could face her, she laughed at his questioning expression. "Did you think you were the only one who wanted to fight? I learned the ways of a warrior, Dick. I want to use that knowledge too."

"Then what are you doing waiting around with me? Hel's out there giving 'em Hel..."

Kory smiled and shook her head at him before she pulled him into a long kiss, her fingers trailing over his cheek. When she finally broke the kiss, her teeth dragging over his bottom lip, she barely even moved back. "If you really need the reminder of who we fight for — _why_ we fight — then perhaps I should lock the door and refuse to let you leave until you do remember."

Dick couldn't help but smile at her as he settled into her. "Maybe you should."

Kory laughed and then pulled him into another kiss. "Dick, I want you by my side when we fight," she breathed in his ear. "But I don't want you to lose yourself."

"Love you too, Kory," he said, which only had her smiling even more before he was the one to initiate the kiss this time, more than happy to take some time off his schedule.

* * *

Dick felt much better for having spent the morning with Kory, not just because he loved her but because he had, in fact, gone back to sleep — and Kory had made sure he slept until he woke up on his own, naturally, feeling a lot less exhausted.

When he did find Kory, she was in the training room herself, stretching out on the mat. He smiled and made his way over to lean over her shoulder and give her a kiss on the cheek. "I am so lucky to have you."

"Oh?" She smiled his way but kept stretching.

"Yeah, I am," he said and kissed her in the same spot. "I hope you know I'll do my best to take care of you just as well as you take care of me."

At that, she did smile a little more and turned his way. "Then you are past your insistence on tearing yourself down?"

"Mostly," he said in a teasing tone, taking a step back and slipping toward the weapons rack. "But if you think your pride can handle a sparring partner fresh out of his ankle boot…"

Kory laughed at that, crossing the space between them in a few strides to kiss him before she grabbed her own staves. "I would say you are always a worthy opponent."

"Can't throw me off with flattery, beautiful," he teased.

"Oh, is that the game?" Kory asked, one eyebrow high and a playful smile at the corner of her mouth. She leaned forward, letting the natural fall of her shirt on her shoulders and the loose strands of hair brushing over her face say more than she could aloud.

"You play dirty," Dick laughed.

"You could too," she pointed out as she settled into a battle-ready position.

"I'm not as good as you."

"You simply do not know how to use what you have," she teased lightly. "But that only makes you more attractive — you do not _try_."

Dick felt his ears turning red as he blushed — which was, of course, when Kory rushed toward him, and he barely got his staves up in time to deflect the blow. "Hey!"

"Oh, did you want me to take ease with you?" she teased, twirling the staves in her hands as she faced him again. "I thought you wanted to train!"

"You…" He had to laugh at her before he rushed forward — and for a long time, the air rang only with the clatter of their staves against each other. Dick was working too hard to keep up a conversation, and Kory graciously left the teasing behind in favor of giving Dick a solid sparring partner to work with.

It was easier, somehow, to train with a partner than it was to train by himself. By himself, he could only see the huge gap between what he could do before and what he could do now. But with Kory, he was so focused on keeping up, on the next parry or the next blow, that there wasn't time for that same self-doubt to creep in.

It wasn't as much of a spar as it was a dance, really. He was so familiar with Kory that he could see the way she leaned, the way she stepped into a move. And she knew him so well that his admittedly slower and less graceful moves were obvious to her.

He knew that Kory was holding back, but still, they were well-matched. He spun on one foot to try and take advantage of an opening to her left, and she barely ducked aside before she used the momentum to put her closed fist, still holding the stave, in the center of his chest, pushing him back several steps.

He gasped in a breath, and Kory let him catch it, smiling at him softly. "And you say you've lost your grace," she said with obvious affection in her tone. "When you aren't thinking about it, you _know_ what to do. Not all training is physical."

"Only the fun parts," Dick countered, giving her a crooked smile before he shook out his arms and settled back into a ready stance to start the dance anew.

She caught his first thrust with both of her staves and then twisted until he was forced to let go — but before she could take advantage of his partial disarming, he dropped down and swept his leg out, nearly knocking her off her feet. While she got her balance back, he grabbed his second stave and spun to face her, grinning crookedly.

By that time, they had attracted an audience, but neither of them seemed to realize it, too focused on their spar. Dick feinted to his left, but Kory had anticipated it and met him at the followup thrust. She had enough power behind her parry that Dick could feel his arms start to shake, and he knew he was wearing out.

But he wasn't about to give up until he was beaten. If he'd been in his old body, he would have used her shoulder as a vaulting point to get behind her, but as it was, he could only spin, jamming one stave into her knees from behind her.

Kory fell to her knees with a cry, but before Dick could disarm her, she spun, still on her knees, until she had both of her staves in an 'x' around his leg — and pulled.

He went down, and she was faster to react, springing to pin him to the mat, both staves crossed underneath his chin and a look of triumph in her gaze for all of several seconds before that cleared and turned to a look more like affection.

She leaned down, some of her hair that had fallen out of her ponytail tickling his neck until she was close enough to nearly touch her nose to his. "And you said you have so far to come," she breathed out. "I think you keep underestimating yourself, Dick."

He couldn't stop his grin as he looked up at her, and he would have leaned up to kiss her if not for the staves still under his chin. "Apparently, I just needed the right teacher."

"The right partner," Kory corrected him. She moved the last few inches to kiss him then, and as soon as the staves were gone from his neck, Dick grinned into the kiss, hooked his leg around hers — and flipped their positions so that Kory was pinned.

She blinked up at him in obvious surprise, her lips slightly parted, before she burst into a laugh. "And I thought you never played dirty!"

"I have a very good teacher," he said with a smirk before he kissed her into the mat.

And he would have gladly kept going, gotten lost in Kory the way they'd finally been able to do since the Games, without the desperation, without the fear, without the cameras everywhere… but someone coughed, and the two of them finally realized that they had an audience.

It was Steve Rogers, last year's tribute from Five, who had coughed to get their attention, but a few other ex-tributes were there, too, including the other Titans — sans Thea, who was still on the list of the "missing." Gar looked totally thrilled with this turn of events, and Raven was shaking her head at Gar, obviously whispering to him to keep it to himself, until—

"So, when are you getting married?"

Dick stared at him. "What?"

"Well, Rita said she and Steve were together a few months, but—"

"Gar," Dick cut in, bright red by that point. "What are you — what?"

"Well, I was talking to Wade while I was waiting for Raven in medical yesterday, and _he_ said the 'smart money' is on the end of the year, whatever that means," Gar said.

When neither Dick nor Kory looked like they knew what to do with that statement, Steve shook his head, one hand on Gar's shoulder. "Wade sets up a betting pool for just about anything if you let him," he said. "Don't read too much into it."

"Right. Yeah," Dick said, though he couldn't quite get his ears to stop burning no matter how many times he swallowed.

Thankfully, Steve seemed to be in the business of taking pity on them, because he smiled Kory's way. "Have you thought about teaching some of the younger kids?" he asked.

"I… have not," Kory said, looking surprised by the question.

But that only had Dick grinning as he bumped her shoulder with his. "You'd be great at it, Kory," he said. "Natural leader."

"Only because you like to follow me," she teased him in an undertone that had him flat-out grinning.

"He's not wrong," Raven said, drawing both of their attention. When she saw that both Dick and Kory were frowning, she sighed and gestured between them. "Just think about it. You already had half the kids in our Games ready to follow you by the time the Games started. You two … people _like_ you. They believe in you."

Dick wanted to argue the point, but he could almost hear Thea's voice in his head telling him that Slade had sent her to him, that she trusted him to get her through the Games.

He didn't know if he wanted to be followed, though, and Kory put a voice to the same thoughts he had: "We did not protect you," she said softly, her gaze flitting between Gar and Raven.

Gar shook his head. "No, that's okay," he promised quickly. "I know it was the Games. And I know you guys tried." He gave them both a smile. "I think Steve's right — but then, I think I might attract Steves who are right," he said, giggling a little at his own joke.

"I … will think about it," Kory said at last.

"I think you'd be a great teacher," Dick told her quietly.

"You are incredibly biased," she pointed out. "And I know you well enough to know how to get you to stop thinking so much. What of other students?"

"I'll help," he offered. "We always do better together anyway, right?"

"Always," she agreed.

"Just kiss her already!" called out another voice, and Dick turned to see that Wade had limped his way to the training area. He was doing much better than Helena had described him when she and the others picked him up from the Capitol, but he still had a slight limp and was obviously sore.

"Wade…" Steve let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You don't understand, Stevie," Wade said, draping an arm around Steve's shoulders. "I have real money riding on—"

"Wade." Steve slipped out from underneath Wade's overly affectionate routine. "Must you?"

"Of _course_ ," Wade said, as if there was no other way to answer that question. "Don't you know we're witnessing an _epic romance_ , Captain Rogers?"

As Wade continued to pester Steve, Dick seized the opportunity and grabbed Kory by the hand. "While they're distracted?"

"Agreed," she said, grinning at him as they both slipped out of the room in a rush, leaving Steve to deal with Wade — who was now going down the list of what he insisted were all the 'power couples'.

Dick shook his head to himself as he pulled Kory around the corner. "Peter told me about that guy. Apparently, he claims he's met Death and that he knows a lot since he was on the other side."

"And what do you think?"

"Me?" Dick shrugged. "I think I'm a zombie, so I have no right to judge."

Kory laughed. "You are no zombie," she said, leaning in to kiss him. "I think I would know."

"Well, I used to be dead — what do you call that?"

"I call it a miracle," Kory said, smiling at him with her eyes lidded.

He stopped and then had to grin as he shifted so that his hands were on her waist as he kissed her. "Okay, that's fair," he said.

"You are only agreeing because you have the stars in your vision," she teased him.

He had to laugh, not only at the sentiment but at the adorable way she had of mangling phrases like that. "I've told you I love you, right?"

"You have," she agreed, her eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. "But you seem to enjoy asking me that question."

"Just so I have the excuse to remind you," he said and pulled her into a long kiss.

"How many times do I have to tell you?" she said, trying to sound exasperated — but that was next to impossible when she was already stepping into him. "You do _not_ need an excuse to tell me your feelings."

"I don't?" he asked, his nose scrunched up, which really only got an affectionate huff as she smacked him in the shoulder.

"No, you do not," she said. "I love you, Dick; you do not have to prove anything or impress me."

"But I like to," he said and kissed her gently. "Because I love you too, and I like to make you laugh."

Kory smiled and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "And I love to see you smiling again. I missed that these past days while you insisted on pushing yourself too far."

"Well, your secret plan worked great," he teased. "Thanks for that, by the way."

"Sometimes, you need the reminder that you are just as important as everyone else," Kory said with a soft smile. "And I admit — I have selfish reasons."

"Oh, like what?"

She smiled and kissed him, her hand sliding across his chest to hook around his neck and pull him even tighter. She wasn't even pretending to be polite about it, and by the time they broke apart to breathe, his head was rushing and his heart was in his ears and he couldn't even remember what they were talking about.

"Why don't we take a break from training for a little while?" Kory suggested, her eyes dancing with laughter.

"Yeah," he breathed out, nodding along. "Yeah, let's do that."

Kory laughed and kissed him — gently this time — before she grabbed his hand. "I love you, Dick."

"Love you too, Kory."


	9. Chapter 9: Of Plants and Men

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We'd like to take you back to the little world of Pamela Isley, written as always by the talented Abby Well.**

 **Thanks to the writers who reviewed all the fluff from last chapter! And thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for continuing to be an awesome, stalwart supporter :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Nine - Of Plants And Men**

 **Pamela Isley of District Eleven**

 **Written by Abby Well**

* * *

 _"This little girl inside me_

 _Is retreating to her favourite place._

 _Go into the garden._

 _Go under the ivy,_

 _Under the leaves,_

 _Away from the party."_

 _Kate Bush, Under the Ivy_

 _"Let me go home_

 _Why don't you let me go home_

 _Well, I feel so broke up_

 _I wanna go home."_

 _The Beach Boys, Sloop John B_

* * *

"Garden?"

"Mine."

"Home?"

"Green."

"Love?"

Ivy blinked slowly, drawing her gaze away from the silver cuffs secured around her wrists and to Dr. Thompkins across the table. Her mouth didn't even move as she said her next word. "Dead." She looked away once more.

Dr. Thompkins made a non-committal humming noise that she probably hoped didn't reveal her feelings one way or another. She glanced down at the folder in front of her. Spread out on the page was every bit of information SHIELD had been able to gather about one Pamela Lillian Isley of District Eleven — or, at least, every bit of information she was permitted to read.

"Tell me about your home," Dr. Thompkins said at last, ending the word-association exercise in favor of something a bit more freeform. "What was it like there?"

Ivy stared back at Dr. Thompkins for a long time before answering. She thought the doctor very transparent — not a good quality in a medical professional. It was painfully obvious that she wanted Ivy to open up, to share her thoughts so they could work toward healing together. Because, of course, there was something wrong with her. She was crazy. She'd lost her mind in the Games.

 _Why are they so determined to know me better than I do?_

As far as Ivy was concerned, there was nothing wrong with her at all.

"Do you know much about Eleven?" Ivy asked eventually, leaning back in her chair as much as she could and eyeing the doctor like a leopard lounging on a tree branch. She didn't give Dr. Thompkins the chance to answer before continuing. "I doubt you've ever been there yourself, but I'm sure you've seen what the Capitol says. The propaganda. We put food on your table, don't we?"

Dr. Thompkins frowned. "Yes, you do."

"Do you know about the heat? You can't escape it, even in the winter. Even the cold burns when you're made to work yourself to death all year round." Ivy shifted in her chair again, curling her legs up. The cuffs bit into her skin as she moved, but she barely noticed. Her eyes, unblinking even in the harsh light of the strip bulb overhead, didn't leave the doctor's face. "What about the fences? I heard Twelve has a fence, but they don't care if it breaks down. Perhaps nobody cares if people leave Twelve." Her voice shifted, the pitch rising, the diction crisper and clearer. "District Eleven provides food for all of Marvel" — she dropped back into her own voice — "so everybody works until they die, to feed people they never see." Ivy chuckled suddenly and snapped her fingers as if a grand idea had just occurred to her. "You know, I never put it together before, but maybe I was more prepared to go into the arena than I thought. It's the same thing, isn't it? It's all the same." She smiled her catlike smile, her green eyes challenging the doctor for an answer.

There was a moment of fraught silence, so many thoughts going unsaid, Ivy's claim making the room's stale air heavy with unspoken truth. "Were you glad to leave?" Dr. Thompkins asked, finally choosing to sidestep that particular question. She was getting a little flustered but seemed determined to continue.

"Do you do this with the other girls?" Ivy replied, ignoring her. "The good girls? Do you ask them about their homes and how much they liked living there, or is it just me?"

Dr, Thompkins cleared her throat. "I'm not permitted to discuss that with you, Pamela, just as I don't discuss our sessions with others. Everything said to me is kept confidential. You know that."

Ivy smiled. "That just means you don't tell your other patients. I doubt you're allowed to keep secrets from your superiors."

"Be that as it may," Dr. Thompkins said emphatically, "I'm still not going to say anything. We're here to talk about you and your experiences, and that means leaving everyone else on the other side of that door for the time being. So, tell me more about your home, Pamela." She was trying to sound confident, to get their session back on track, to disguise that look in her eyes that showed she felt she was losing her small modicum of control. Ivy noticed that look — and stared it down.

"I wasn't glad to leave," she said at last, obliging, and she watched with a barely-concealed smirk as Dr. Thompkins picked up a pen to write useless notes that would no doubt only fuel the resolve to 'heal' her. "I didn't want to leave. My family was there."

"Your parents?"

"My _children._ "

At first, the doctor didn't prod for further explanation with vacant words but simply raised her eyebrows in a seemingly encouraging way. Ivy wasn't sure if that was better or worse. Dr. Thompkins scribbled something, deliberately keeping the paper tilted away so Ivy couldn't read it upside-down — though Ivy could probably have guessed what it said. Doctors were so predictable. She'd had enough of this from the ones in Eleven — making notes, examining her, muttering in carefully cadenced voices about how quiet she was, how introverted she'd become. None of them had really known why. Not even Moss and Yarrow had known everything, and being the way they were, they'd never wanted to ask her directly. Too timid, too cautious, too afraid of what the real answer might be.

"...in the gardens?" came Dr. Thompkins' voice, breaking through Ivy's thoughts.

Ivy raised her head and glared at Dr. Thompkins. "What?"

"You're referring to the plants you tended to in the gardens?" Dr. Thompkins repeated, pen poised above the page. "You think of the plants as your children?"

Ivy deigned to nod.

"Why do you think that is?" the doctor continued, leaning forward slightly in her chair. She seemed sure that following this thread would lead somewhere useful. "Do you feel as if you've never had the family you desired, so you took it upon yourself to form familial attachments of your own volition?"

No answer. Ivy watched her silently, waiting to see the direction this line of thought was going. She had an idea of where it might be, and that idea was starting to build a fire in her heart. She started chewing at her bottom lip, tugging a piece of loose skin with her teeth.

Thompkins was still talking, almost to herself now, as she spoke her way toward what she must have imagined to be a breakthrough. "If that's the case, then perhaps it could explain why you formed such a strong attachment in the arena and why it damaged you so significantly when that attachment was broken…"

Ivy's lip started to bleed, a large bead of blood swirling onto her tongue and filling her mouth with copper. She knew exactly what Thompkins was talking about now.

 _Go on._

 _Say it._

 _Say her name._

"Your relationship with Harley—"

 _Thank you._

Dr. Thompkins paused and looked up from her notes, and Ivy realized she must have spoken aloud. "Do you have something to say, Pamela?"

"Don't talk about her. I don't want you to talk about her." Ivy's expression was unreadable, her voice perfectly balanced and calm.

Dr. Thompkins, on the other hand, had a little trouble hiding the obvious curiosity in her tone. "And why is that?"

Ivy smiled, properly this time, baring her blood-stained teeth. She took a moment to rearrange her body in the chair, uncurling her legs and sitting up straight with her hands gripping the armrests until she was perfectly poised. "Because I think I'll kill you if you do, and since I'm already under house arrest, I'd hate to lose my outdoor privileges. It wouldn't be worth it." She leaned forward and dropped her voice as if she was telling a secret. "You don't get to say her name like that. Like you _knew_ her."

Dr. Thompkins cleared her throat and shuffled the papers in front of her, then shook her head. "This is a safe environment, Pamela. You can't do anything to me in here," she said brusquely.

"Can't I?" Ivy chuckled. "You have my file in front of you, Doctor. You think you know everything about me, but do you know how many times I've been told I can't do something? How many times I've been overlooked, dismissed, underestimated? It kept happening in the Games; nobody saw me for what I really am. Nobody thought I would survive." She licked her lips, picking up the taste of blood once more, staining those lips red again for the first time in days. "And now SHIELD is always testing me, to see what I can _really_ do, because they all saw me in the arena. They sent a man to visit me here, and I wrapped him 'round my little finger with nothing but words and touches. That was a test. They could be testing me right now, in here, with you. Poor, old, dispensable you."

She lifted her wrists and rattled the handcuffs, and the room was filled with the sound of metal on metal. It was a strangely cheerful noise, like a peal of bells. "What if these cuffs are just a little too big today? I could slip my hands out. They could just be waiting for me to notice. Maybe that's all our sessions are, Doctor — just a way for them to see how far I can be pushed by stupid questions before I snap." She fell back into her chair and crossed her legs, tapping her fingers against the armrests in a slow, languorous rhythm. "They must keep you in the dark, though, because if you knew, you wouldn't talk to me like you do, like you're so sure that you're the one in charge here. I know you're afraid of me, and you don't _want_ to see what I'm capable of. Not really." Her voice dropped even lower, barely above a breath, and green fire danced in her eyes. "You saw what I did to the little Dickie bird, but I don't really need weapons to hurt you. I'm better than that."

There was silence for an answer.

"Tell me, Doctor; do you still feel safe in here?"

A long moment of stillness followed Ivy's final words, broken only by the rustling of paper as Dr. Thompkins placed each page back into the file on the table and closed it carefully. Finally, the doctor tucked the file under her arm, cleared her throat a bit louder than was necessary, and took a deep breath. "I think we're done here, don't you?" she said, ever professional.

Ivy nodded. "I think we are. It's been fun." She blew a kiss.

* * *

 _I think we're done here._

It was funny how close the doctor's words had been to the truth. Ivy had never planned to stay in the compound — of course she hadn't. It wasn't the place for her. Too many walls blocking her from the world, from the green.

She knew it was there; she could smell it whenever she was allowed outdoors, feel the pulse of nature through the tarmacked ground under her feet. It was so _close_. It was tearing her body in two, coaxing her to fall into its soft embrace while SHIELD kept trying to pull her away.

At night, she could hear it calling to her. She hadn't slept properly in days; she couldn't, not when there was so much pain tainting her children's voices. Every fiber of her being wanted to go to them, to comfort them. It felt like something was missing, as if she'd lost an arm but could still feel it hanging by her side. She wasn't whole.

The only upside was that she now had her companion, a little azalea bush that her agent had brought. It sat on her bedside table, and she talked to it on sleepless nights, murmuring her plans under her breath and only half-expecting it to stay silent. It had cheery pink flowers and was doing its best to thrive in her room, but just like her, it needed to be outside. Every day she spent in here was a day she could feel herself losing will, shrivelling into nothingness.

With a delicate sigh, she stretched herself out on her little white bed and stared up at the ceiling. It was one of those long, blank periods of the day between therapy and outdoor time, when she had nothing to do but run around inside her own head. These were the most dangerous times for her; therapy was annoying, certainly, and she was getting a bit tired of having to be escorted everywhere, but being alone in her room for so long each day and night was worst of all. She couldn't escape her own thoughts, and there was nothing to stop them from plunging deeper into the abyss that housed every horror she'd witnessed in the arena — and so many more.

She'd seen Harley die a hundred different ways, and every time, she couldn't reach her before she saw the light behind her blue eyes snuffed out. She'd watched the entire swamp succumb to the Gamemakers' fire. She'd felt the Joker's fingers at her throat again, then Kory's, then Helena's, Diana's, Dick's... So many people wanting to kill her, saying such horrible things. She'd seen her garden withering away, all her children mourning her loss, missing her so much they could no longer cope with living. She'd seen her parents go the same way, and right down at the bottom, where the darkness was thickest, she'd heard a man's voice in her ear that tried to make her feel… so very small.

She hadn't heard Harley's voice since she'd first woken up there, though. That was the one she wanted to hear most.

None of this had been told to Dr. Thompkins. Ivy didn't want the doctor poking through her innermost thoughts, trying to weave some coherent diagnosis on the broken loom of her mind. She couldn't — _wouldn't_ — be put in a box and filed away, compared to a checklist and sent to where she was deemed most useful.

She screwed her eyes shut and reached up to rub her temples with the tips of her fingers. The light in the room was starting to hurt.

 _I have to get out._

A glance at the clock told her that it would be four minutes until her favorite agent arrived to walk her around the compound. He was always so wonderfully punctual.

It had perhaps taken a little longer than she'd anticipated to convince him to to suggest to his superiors that she was allowed outside, but a few well-placed kisses and compliments along with playing the helpless maiden role had eventually gotten her exactly what she wanted, as she'd known it would. The only stipulation she hadn't been able to budge him on was that there was to be no contact with any of the other finalists — verbal, physical, or otherwise — and especially not with Kory, but she didn't mind that. She hadn't seen any of the others at all since Kory had tried to kill her. They were all probably busy training to be the heroes of the hour. With costumes. From what little she knew of Diana Prince, in particular, she had a feeling the Four girl would feel right at home in a suit of armor. Maybe a crown, too.

She wasn't jealous of the other girls for all they were allowed to do. Let them be fuel to feed the fire of revolution, burning up until nothing of themselves was left. Let them be used and manipulated by invisible hands. She had other plans, none of which involved staying.

Two minutes to go.

She sat up and stretched her arms above her head, then turned to the table beside her upon which her azalea sat. "You're coming out with me today, baby," she whispered in a tone low enough that the cameras she knew were in the room somewhere wouldn't be able to pick up her words. "I wouldn't leave without you." She reached out and delicately ran her fingertips over the nearest flower, admiring the silky pink petals, still fresh and smooth even though they'd both been suffering in this blank room for far too long.

What a resilient little one.

There was no mirror in the room, but Ivy didn't need a mirror to know how to make herself look more appealing. She loosened her hair from its ponytail and let it fall down over her shoulders, then fluffed it out so it curled attractively and framed her face. Next, she bit her lips so they turned pink and formed a perfect pout — there was only so much she could do without lipstick — and undid the top two buttons of her regulation grey shirt. Once she'd finished arranging herself on the bed so her chest was pushed forward and her long legs drew the eye all the way up her body, there was a knock at the door.

 _Right on time,_ she thought, and pasted a welcoming smile on her face.

She didn't get up for her agent when he entered the room; he had to come to her, approaching the bed as he always did with a mix of trepidation and eagerness coloring his features.

Ivy smiled up at him, giving him a good view down the front of her shirt. "Hello, darling."

"Dr. Thompkins said you threatened her in your session today," he answered.

There was no use in denying it, nor did she want to. "Only because she was talking about things I didn't want to talk about," Ivy admitted, reaching up to casually play with her hair. "She was upsetting me."

He was frowning, his mouth set in a thin line and his forehead wrinkled underneath the brim of a standard-issue SHIELD cap. "Therapy can be upsetting, but you can't just threaten to kill people, Pamela."

Ivy fought to stop herself from scowling. If there was one drawback to this man, it was that he insisted on calling her by the old name. "I'm sorry," she murmured, looking down and twisting her hands together in her lap. "I didn't mean to scare her. I just… I got angry, and I didn't want to talk about Harley anymore, but she kept on…" She made her voice small, letting her words trail off as she kept her eyes trained on the floor.

She waited. Her agent was clearly trying to be a bit more professional today, but he'd come around. He always did.

"Hey," he said softly, and she lifted her head up briefly to look him in the eye again, blinking over and over as if she was fighting back tears, before slumping back down in apparent shame. "It's alright. I'm not mad; I just wanted you to know that you upset some people. You know that if you work with us, we'll help you, right? We just want to help you."

"I know…" Ivy sniffed loudly and scrubbed at her eyes to hide the fact that her face was dry. When she looked up again, her eyes were red. "Am I… am I in trouble, then? Am I not allowed out today?" The fear in her voice was only mostly fake.

Her agent smiled. "Would I be here if you weren't? Come on." He rummaged for something on his belt and then held out a familiar pair of metal cuffs. Although she hated those cuffs, Ivy waited placidly while he put them on her wrists before standing up and hooking her arms behind his neck. She kissed him hard, molding herself to his body as much as she could.

"Thank you," she breathed out when she broke away from his stunned face for a moment. "I just… sometimes I feel like you're the only one who cares about me here. You look after me."

He nodded, still dumbstruck, and Ivy bit her lip to keep herself from laughing at his expression. She almost felt sorry for him, but then she remembered that he was yet another part of the great SHIELD machine, designed to keep her in place. Even if he hadn't been the one to instigate it, he was keeping that plan going. Slowly, she lifted her arms back over his head and took her time bringing them down in front of her, letting him see the way her body moved under the clothes they'd given her. She watched as his eyes followed her hands when she leaned over to pick up her azalea.

"Can they come with us today?" she asked imploringly, cradling the flowerpot in her outstretched hands like an offering to an altar. "We've both been cooped up in here for so long, and they barely get any light…"

"Er… sure," her agent said, looking confused. It seemed like he was going to say something else, but he obviously thought better of it and chose to humor her instead. He took hold of her upper arm and guided her out of the room.

Ivy walked calmly beside him, staring at the floor as they moved through the gray and white corridors of the compound. Nobody spoke to her or even tried to get her attention, though she saw booted feet walking past her a few times. If anybody she knew walked by, she didn't acknowledge them, instead keeping her gaze fixed downward on the tiles passing under her thin canvas shoes. She held her azalea close. _Not long now, baby._

It was at least another five minutes before they reached a security door; then, her agent had to fumble for his lanyard and swipe the ID card before the door buzzed open and he took her shoulder to guide her outside.

 _Outside._ It was hot; a wave of warmth like a solid wall enveloped her face and body as soon as she left the cool interior of the compound. The sky was full of clouds, pale overhead but growing darker and more ominous off to the west. The storms up here were frequent yet brief, and another one was on its way. Ivy smiled. She liked the rain, and the thick and humid atmosphere that heralded another thunderstorm reminded her of the swamp.

"It's quiet out today," she remarked to her agent as he led her out to walk the rigid concrete paths around the compound. "Where is everyone?"

"Busy," came the reply, and the two of them made a sharp left turn to walk alongside a low gray building. They only passed a handful of blue-uniformed figures on their way, and nobody stopped to speak to them. Something was going on, and while Ivy didn't much care what that was, she appreciated that she couldn't really have picked a better time to make a break for it.

She glanced down at the azalea in her hands — what she was looking for, she didn't know, but somehow, it made her feel better. _Soon, baby. Soon._

They turned another corner, heading toward the central courtyard. Up ahead was the main gate, flanked on both sides by men in blue uniforms, but there were no fences. There was no need for them when the whole compound was so well-hidden by the thick trees. Regardless, Ivy didn't think she could risk going with such a direct route out, but as she walked, she turned her head to subtly follow the line of the forest perimeter around the rest of the compound, and she thought she spotted a gap in the patrolling guards. She looked up at the grim-faced agent by her side. There was no way she'd be able to confirm her suspicions if he was with her. He would have to go.

The time it took to pass three more people on their walk was enough for her to formulate something like a plan. She took a deep breath and smiled before looking up coyly at her agent's face.

"You look very serious," she murmured, speaking low so he'd have to lean closer or turn his head toward her to make out her words. "Is something wrong?"

He swallowed. "There's a lot going on."

Ivy nodded solemnly, concern shaping her features. "The revolution, right? It's a lot to take in. What's your role in all of this?"

"Nothing you need to know about." He turned away and kept walking.

He was pulling away from her. Ivy cleared her throat and tried again. "Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you're doing it well, but it looks like it's _really_ stressing you out." She rested her head against the agent's hand that was still holding onto her shoulder and felt him flinch, but he didn't try and pull away. "Always busy, always working, and you're still taking time for me."

Her agent still wasn't saying anything, but something unspoken passed between them, and they ended up coming to a stop, alone, on the cusp of the courtyard. He was listening now.

"You were assigned to keep an eye on me, and you've done so much more. It's so sweet of you." Ivy turned and carefully set her azalea on the ground. When she straightened up and faced her agent again, she saw his gaze was running up and down her body. _Good._ "I wanted to _thank_ you," she continued, stepping forward and pressing her hands against her agent's broad chest, gently caressing him with her fingertips. "Everything you've done for me, I really do appreciate it. I know I can be difficult, and I say things and do things that upset some people, but I would have gone mad without some company. You gave me that company. You brought me my flower, you take me for walks…" Their bodies were flush against each other now, and her lips were barely an inch away from his mouth. He was taller than she was, so she leaned against him, pressing him to the wall. "You've done so much for me. My knight in shining armor."

She kissed him, hard, and felt his resistance begin to melt away as it always had before. He always tried to maintain his professional front for just a moment longer, but his clear attraction to her won out every time. She purred with satisfaction and stood up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. Her hands shifted up until she had one on each side of his neck, the chain that connected her cuffs resting across his throat. Her mouth left his, and she breathed deep.

She pushed.

The moment he realized what was happening and tried to resist, Ivy snapped. Days and days of pent-up anger and frustration bubbled over and flooded her mind, and she found herself feeling somewhat detached, almost like she was watching herself from a few feet away. Any other time, she wouldn't have had the strength, but it was different now; this was the culmination of having no tangible target to blame for everything that had been done to her, being passed around from professional to professional, locked in a blank room, having everything kept from her, having the hands of strangers touch her and try to take her power away. Messing with Dr. Thompkins had been fun, but it hadn't been enough. _This_ was what she'd been missing.

He was fighting back, trying to push her away. Instinctively, she locked her fingers behind his neck and used that anchor to pull herself off the ground and wrap her legs around his waist, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. She wasn't a fighter. She didn't know where this was all coming from. But she _liked_ it. She squeezed, and for a moment, she could almost feel the vines from the swamp wrapped around her arms again, lashing out and moving with her.

"Everything," she hissed in a voice unlike her own, quickly changing the position of her hands so he couldn't turn his head and was forced to look at her furious face. "Everything you did to me, all of you did to me. You helped them keep me here, like a science project. Like a _pet._ "

He gasped for air. She felt his hands trying to pull her legs off him, then scrabbling to wrench her arms apart, but Ivy clung to him like moss to a stone and stared into his eyes as they rolled back in their sockets. His knees buckled beneath him, and she rode his unconscious body down to the ground.

Once he was still, she clambered off him and dropped into a crouch, glancing around. There were no people nearby, but there would be cameras. Somebody had probably already seen what she'd done. She had to move.

The first thing she did was find the keys to her cuffs and free her hands. Blood was pounding in her ears, punctuating her movements with the _thud thud thud_ of her own anger and adrenaline. She went for his cap next, gathering her eye-catching hair into a bundle and jamming the hat down on top of it. There was no time to try and grab his jacket to cover her gray outfit, but she did pick her azalea up and tuck it into the crook of her arm.

She took off carefully, ducking and weaving between buildings. The air was hot, and for a moment, if she'd closed her eyes, she could have been back in the arena, breathing the thick, damp air of that beautiful swamp as she trudged through with Harley at her side ... but she kept her eyes wide open. Here, there were dragons.

Except, by some miracle, none of the dragons had reached her yet. She heard a shout somewhere behind her but she didn't stop to see if anyone was coming her way. The edge of the forest was up ahead; she could see it. The green was so inviting, calling out to her.

 _Get your Game face on, yeah?_ came a voice in her head. She didn't know whose voice that was. She'd lost count of the voices she'd heard since waking up in the compound, and anyway, the only thing she could focus on was the trees — but maybe the voice was right.

Cautiously, she slipped out from between the buildings into the light once more, then began striding with purpose over to the forest's edge and trying to look for all the world as if she was supposed to be walking in that direction. There was no way to hide the flower in her arms, but that was okay. She was almost out. Just a little bit further.

A low rumble of thunder growled overhead when she crossed the threshold of the forest, an omen she chose to ignore — and then, suddenly, she was _there._ She'd crossed into the trees, and nobody in the compound had noticed her leaving. The transition from their world to hers had happened so quickly that it almost took her by surprise.

Elated, she laughed. She wanted to run, but she forced herself to walk calmly among the trees, inhaling the smells of the green and feeling the soft earth yielding beneath her shoes. She stopped to reach out with her free hand and brushed her fingertips against the bark of a tree, tracing the grooves of the trunk with a happy sigh, before continuing on until she came to a small clearing with a break in the canopy overhead.

 _First thing's first._ Ivy knelt down on the ground and placed her azalea in front of her. It sat in its pot, as if waiting patiently for what she was about to do. She smiled down at it. "Just hold on a little bit longer, baby," she whispered eagerly, digging her hands into the soil and carving out a space for her friend. Her hands quickly became filthy, nails turned black from the earth, but she didn't care; she relished the feeling of the dirt between her fingers. She'd missed it so much.

Soon, there was a sizeable hole in front of her, and she carefully decanted her azalea from its pot and set it into the ground, tucking it in tight and patting the soil down around its roots. She glanced up at the clouded sky. There would be plenty of sunlight here, most of the time, and rain too. Her flower would thrive in this place. Just like her.

Satisfied, she murmured a fond goodbye to her only companion and went on her way into the forest.

As she walked, she shed her SHIELD skin. First, she removed her shoes, so she could walk unhindered across the earth; then, off came the borrowed cap, allowing her hair to tumble down her back and swing free in the breeze. The gray shirt, with its stiff collar that scratched her neck, was next to be removed and tossed into the undergrowth. Finally, she wriggled her way out of the pants they'd given her and left them in her wake, striding further into the forest in only her underwear.

Rain was starting to fall, soft and warm, making the whole forest sing to the music of the raindrops falling through the leaves. Ivy embraced the sensation of the water on her bare skin. She paused in her journey occasionally to borrow some of the bounty around her as she had done before, once again coating her skin with the earth and plucking leaves and flowers to adorn the curves of her body. She gathered up a swathe of vines and draped them around her shoulders, then scooped up some of the reddish-brown mud with her hands and used it to slick back her hair and decorate her face.

She didn't feel the discomforting coolness of the mud or the sharp twigs poking up from the soil, this dryad of District Eleven. She only felt _alive,_ more alive than she had in days; this was a whole new part of the green for her to explore, different than the heavy lushness of the swamp or the delicate arrangements of her garden.

She stopped.

Her garden. She could return to her garden now, find her children again. How she missed them. She ached for them.

She would wait until the sky cleared, be that today or the next morning, and she would use the sun to work out which way to go. Then, she would be with them once more.

 _Mommy's coming._


	10. Chapter 10: I'll Follow You

**(A/N): Welcome back to our Friday update! This time, we're checking in with John Constantine, written by the very talented BstnStrng13.**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed and to Slim Summers2002 for being our staunchest supporter!**

* * *

 **Chapter Ten - I'll Follow You**

 **SHIELD Base in District Twelve**

 **John Constantine, formerly of District Twelve**

 **Written by BstnStrng13**

* * *

" _The drum to which we march reveals the conductor to whom we're listening." - Craig D. Lounsbrough_

* * *

John awoke in his usual disoriented state — heart thumping, eyes squinting at the light. It took him a minute to recall that he was at the new SHIELD base in District Twelve and not in the middle of a battle with Hydra or in the Games. Once he did, his tension eased, and he stretched cautiously in the bunk. The joints and tendons of his new body, stiff with sleep, crackled as he moved but didn't hurt.

Waking up was something John still did not take for granted. It had been some time since he'd first opened his eyes to the revolution under the Capitol, and every time he'd opened them since then had been both alarming and wondrous. Alarming because he had yet to fully integrate mind and soul into his often uncooperative body. Wondrous because he had been given a second chance at life. It was an unusual gift, and he intended to make the most of it.

He swung his legs around until he was sitting on the edge of the bunk. The room was empty. Thor must have woken up before him and wandered off to explore the new base. He wondered if Kaldur had also managed to catch a nap or if he was still trying to persuade SHIELD's leadership that stopping Hydra's enslavement of children was a top priority. John knew the three of them would continue to hunt Hydra regardless, but it would certainly help if they had the resources of SHIELD backing them up.

He slid off the bunk and stood, pleased to find that his legs felt steady. Progress was slow, but day by day, he could feel his endurance improving. As he pulled on his shoes, he decided he would find the training room to work his body further. Training figured prominently in John's goal of making the most of his new life. If he was going to join Kaldur and Thor in the fight against Hydra, he wanted to do it as a fully contributing member of the team. That meant becoming stronger and more proficient with weapons. He didn't kid himself that he'd lasted as long as he had in the Games because of his skills with illusions and sleight of hand. He knew he'd gotten to the final five because of his alliance with Diana. This time was going to be different.

He had to ask directions from several SHIELD agents before he could locate the training room. To his surprise, a couple of them addressed him by name — a consequence, he supposed, of either being in the Games or being brought back to life in the Tahiti program. His old self — the John before the Avenger Games — would have been nervous or angry at being recognized by anyone in SHIELD. Now, he found he didn't care one way or the other. As long as they didn't try to stop him from going up against Hydra, they could call him whatever they wanted.

The training room, like the rest of the facility, was new, bright, and felt sterile and impersonal. It was all shining steel equipment and off-white walls — no earth tones and no windows providing natural light. John couldn't even tell if he was above or below ground. There was nothing about the place that felt like Twelve; Twelve was dirt and coal and the muted greens of the forest.

The only other person in the room was Thor. He was hanging by his arms from a horizontal bar, doing pull-ups as easily as most people would lift a loaf of bread. John found it both impressive and annoying.

"Show-off," he said with a grin.

Thor dropped to the floor and grinned back. "Well hello, sleeping beauty. I was going organize a search party if you did not appear soon."

John laughed sheepishly. "I guess I was tired," he admitted.

Thor's expression became more serious. "Do not apologize. It requires time to adjust to the new body. And we have been busy of late, with few opportunities for rest."

John nodded, thinking of their battles with Hydra. "Well, that's for bloody sure." He waved vaguely at the equipment in the room. All the pulleys, bars and weights looked the same to him. "Where do you suggest I start to build strength?" he asked. "I'd like to speed up the adjustment process, if that's possible."

Thor gazed at him thoughtfully. "What did you do for training before the Games?"

John shrugged. "I swung a miner's pick underground. That's about it."

To John's relief, Thor didn't laugh. "I think you should start with the big muscle groups," he replied. "Your back and your core. They are the foundations for strength; without them, it does not matter how strong your arms or legs might be." He pointed to a mat on the floor. "Begin with crunches."

John groaned. They were one of his least favorite exercises in the Capitol. Nevertheless, he obediently lay down on the mat and began…crunching.

"Have you seen Kaldur?" he asked Thor, partly because he wanted to take his mind off his burning abdominal muscles but mostly because he wondered whether the diver had been successful in securing SHIELD's backing to pursue Hydra.

Thor shook his head. "Not yet." Then, he smiled. "Like many from our district, Kaldur can be most eloquent when pursuing an honorable cause. I suspect the new director — whoever he may be — will have no choice but to agree."

John kept crunching and didn't comment. Kaldur's earnestness was one of the things he liked about the diver, especially because it was almost always in support of justice. John was grateful for the company of both of the Fours, but he found Kaldur a little easier to talk to. Thor's boisterous confidence could be intimidating.

"That's enough crunches," Thor said, and John gratefully stopped and lay on his back. "Turn over and try pushups next."

 _Pushups? Crap. Well, this is what it takes to build up strength. So stop whining and get to it, John_. He rolled over and assumed a pushup position.

"How does it feel to be back in Twelve?" Thor asked conversationally. "This _is_ your home, is it not?"

John nodded briefly and began pushing up. He felt strangely ambivalent about being in Twelve. It was almost as if receiving a new life and an engineered body had erased part of his past, making him no longer belong to any district or person. Given their plans to hunt Hydra, he didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing. It would help him remain focused on their cause.

"John?" Thor persisted. He sounded genuinely curious.

John paused between pushups, allowing his knees to drop to the mat. "I know it's my home, but to be honest, before I became a tribute, I was mostly a slave here. I worked in the mines because that's what the Capitol made me do. When I wasn't working, I tried not to draw attention to myself." He looked up and met Thor's gaze. "I'm not like a lot of the tributes. I don't come from a prominent family, so I don't have the same ties to my district. And I have other things I want to do, like fighting Hydra, that will probably take me away from Twelve. Although," he added, "I would like to see my sister. As far as she knows, I died in the Games."

Thor shrugged. "I would think that would be possible. Tahiti is becoming known among the general populace. It would seem to me you are no longer required to remain hidden from your family."

"My _sister_ ," John corrected. He didn't give a damn about his father. "She's the only family I have."

Thor nodded. "Your sister," he repeated. "I would think you could see your sister — provided you can find a means to reach her without being caught by any Hydra search parties as they try to locate our base." He pointed at the mat. "Enough talking. Another twenty pushups, John."

John nodded and stretched out once more on his hands and toes. He was about to resume the exercise when the door opened and Kaldur walked in. The diver was not alone.

Diana Prince was with him.

Di.

John's arms buckled beneath him, and he dropped to the mat. It felt as though the floor had moved, as if he was on a transport that had just lifted off and was bouncing in turbulent air. He didn't think it had anything to do with his new body or the workout. It was seeing _her_ ; looking healthy, strong and just so…so… _Diana_.

She'd been in his thoughts from the moment he'd been brought back. He hadn't known whether she was alive or dead, and in chasing Hydra, they'd encountered no one who could tell them much about her other than that she'd last been seen alive with the three other members of the Final Four before the Capitol cut off the transmission of the Games — and the declaration of revolution.

Looking at her now, John could see the remnants of scrapes and gashes — including the tip of the shoulder wound he'd treated in the Games, peeking out from under her collar. So, she had made it out of the arena alive; she hadn't died and been brought back in a new body. He wasn't surprised, because he'd always believed that she had the skills to win. That didn't stop him from feeling relief at knowing she'd made it, though.

Diana was talking to Kaldur as they entered the training room and didn't see him. John slowly rose to his feet.

"Di?"

She stopped and turned to look at him. Kaldur must have told her he was alive, because she didn't appear as dumbfounded as _he'd_ felt when she'd walked in. Nevertheless, her rosy cheeks became a shade paler.

"John," she said quietly.

The last time they had seen each other, she was holding his hand as he bled out in the arena. With death only minutes away, he had told her that he loved her. It had seemed appropriate — and safe. For him, it was a truth. And for her, well, he'd figured it could become a warm memory with no obligations or awkwardness. Something she could later recall that might erase a little of the brutality and horror of the Games. It had never in a million years occurred to him that they would meet again.

He could see in her eyes now that she was remembering his final moments, too. There was a brief silence during which he considered saying something silly to break the ice; but then he remembered his vow to make the most of his second life. _Screw it_ , he thought.

He walked over to her, put his arms around her waist, and pulled her into a tight hug. She froze for a second, and then her arms went around him and she hugged him back. She was a little taller than he was, and he had to tilt his chin up to allow it to rest on her shoulder. He briefly breathed in her scent. It was of light flowers with a hint of salt. He'd never been close the ocean, but he imagined this must be what the ocean smelled like. Then, he let go and stepped back.

She looked even better up close. The gloss was back in her dark hair, and her sea-blue eyes were clear and composed. "You survived," he said, because he had to say something, and he didn't think _you look beautiful_ was a good idea.

She nodded. "Aye. And you…" She paused, searching for words.

"I _revived_?" he finished for her.

"Aye." She nodded again.

They looked at each other. John wasn't sure what to say next. Diana didn't seem terribly surprised about dead tributes returning to life, so there was no need to rehash his rebirth. He thought about asking her how she'd gotten out of the arena. All that mattered was that she standing in front of him.

She cleared her throat and arched one eyebrow. "Had I not encountered Kaldur a short while ago, I might have thought your appearance now, John, to be another one of your illusions." She shook her head. "I thought you lost when I did not see you among SHIELD's number here. Instead, I learn that you are alive and in pursuit of the enemy — without me."

Her last two words almost sounded like a reprimand. John was about to defend himself — to say that he didn't know until this moment where she was — when he saw her lips curve upward. She was teasing — the same way that she had sometimes teased him in the Games. He shook his head. "Oh hell, Di. You'd think after everything we've been through that I would know by now when you're pulling my leg." He felt a small bubble of joy originate somewhere in his gut and rise in his chest. "It's bloody good to see you," he added, as if his hug hadn't already made his feelings clear.

The smile remained on her face. "Aye, it is good to see you also, John." Then, her smile faded. "But I was not entirely — what is your expression? — _pulling your leg_ just now. Kaldur told me that you joined him and Thor in hunting Hydra, immediately upon your awakening."

She sounded surprised by that. John nodded. "Yes."

"Forgive me for asking," she continued, "but are you certain this is what you would wish to do with your new life?"

John felt his cheeks redden. Did she doubt him? After seeing him in the Games, did she believe he couldn't be of help to Thor and Kaldur? "You think I _can't_ fight Hydra?" he asked.

Her brow furrowed. "I do not doubt your courage or determination, John." She paused, and he knew there was a _but_ coming. Sure enough, she added, "But I also know well that you dislike killing."

He stared at her and didn't say anything.

"This will not be like the Games," she went on, "where you are fighting to defend yourself. In hunting Hydra, you are carrying the battle to the enemy. You are _choosing_ to bring death. It may weigh on your conscience later." She reached out and briefly touched his hand. "I would not wish to put you at war with yourself, John."

He shook his head impatiently. "I _know_ that we will kill, Di. What do you think we've been doing for the last few days? And you're right: normally, I would hate the idea. But Hydra ... they're taking children and…and… _torturing_ them. They have to be stopped." He looked at her in confusion. "And what you do you mean by _you wouldn't want to put me at war with myself_? I know you have an overdeveloped sense of responsibility, but why on earth would you be responsible in this case?"

She returned his gaze steadily. "Because I thought to join your battle — nay, I thought to _lead_ it. And if that is so, then there may be a time where I _tell_ you to kill someone. What would you say to that, John Constantine?"

Di was going to become part of the team? _Lead_ the team? He laughed. "I'd say that's bloody marvelous, Di. Do you even need to ask?" Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kaldur nod.

Diana nodded also but still searched his face, as if she were reluctant to be convinced. "There are other ways you can fight this war, John. You are home, returned to your people in District Twelve. You can be a warrior in the rebellion here. Do you not wish to see your district freed?"

It was the same thing Thor had hinted at right before Diana had walked in. Because it was her, and because of what they'd been through, John wanted to give Di a better answer than he'd given Odin's son — a more complete, honest answer. He searched his heart for the truth. "I'm all for the districts having their freedom and ruling themselves," he finally said, "but I think this rebellion is about something bigger than that. I want a free _Marvel_ , where citizens are no longer defined or bounded by their districts. I want everyone to be truly at liberty, to travel between districts, or to live in one they weren't born in, if that's what they want." He waved a hand at Kaldur. "I want to be able to go to Four and have Kaldur teach me to swim or go to Five and talk to Clark's mother." He shrugged. "And it starts with freeing children no matter which district they call home — _and_ defeating Hydra. Hydra would merely replace one dictator with another. That can't happen."

She frowned. "I have not heard you speak of this vision before, John. Is this what you have always wanted?"

He shook his head. "Before the Games, the only thing I wanted was to be left alone, to escape notice. If there is anything good that came out of them — anything good at all — it is that I am not afraid to want something more now — to fight for something more." He grinned shyly. "I think that is your gift to me, Di. Well, yours and Clark's and Kara's — and anyone else who was part of our alliance — but mostly yours."

She appeared pleased and a little touched. "You realize there is a chance death may find you in this fight?"

"I know. I died once. If it happens again, at least it will be for a better reason this time."

She frowned. "You will not be given another body. Logan, the new director, has discontinued the practice."

That was news — both that Logan was the director of SHIELD and that the Tahiti program had been discontinued. John decided neither particularly mattered. "That's okay," he said evenly.

She searched his face again and finally seemed convinced. "Very well, John. It will be good to fight alongside you again." She paused and then grinned. "Although, having seen you in the water in the Games, I think it unlikely that Kaldur will ever be able to teach you to swim. That is one dream you may need to abandon."

John laughed.

"I will speak with Logan now," Di continued, "and inform him of our intent to rescue the children."

 _Poor Logan_ , John thought. _If he had different plans for us, he's going to have to give them up. He doesn't stand a chance._

Diana paused in the doorway. She looked at each of them in turn, as if securing their allegiance. When her gaze met Thor's, John thought he saw an odd expression pass over her face. Then, she turned and left.

The three young men watched her go in appreciative silence. After a moment, Thor walked over to John and slapped him on the back. "That was a good speech you made," he said with a grin, "about daring to wish for more now. Not as stirring a Kaldur, perhaps, but most persuasive. We may make a Four out of you yet."

John shook his head. "I wasn't trying to persuade anyone. I meant every word that I said."

Kaldur nodded. "That," he said in a gentler tone than Thor, "is what made the speech good."

* * *

John had been surprised to learn that SHIELD had selected District Twelve for its new base. It was one of the poorest districts and not known for developing fighters. SHIELD would certainly have better access to resources, both people and weapons, elsewhere.

However, as he quietly stepped out of the door into the pitch-black night, he saw that there were also advantages to Twelve. Perceived as low-risk by the Capitol, it was one of the least watched districts in Marvel and therefore one of the least known. John was able to navigate the familiar paths through the woods without encountering Sentinels, Hydra or a camera. It took him less than an hour to leave the signal and then position himself in the abandoned mine entrance to wait. He was pleased to find that his talent for stealth was returning.

He wasn't sure Cheryl would come. It had been weeks since he'd left Twelve, and she had seen him die on the broadcast; and then (he assumed), she'd attended his funeral. She wouldn't be looking for a piece of twine tied to a tree branch, their old signal for meeting away from the house and their father. Nevertheless, he dared to hope that she still checked.

And eventually, she did come. He heard her footsteps approaching and knew right away that it was his sister.

He stepped to the front of the mine entrance.

"Cheryl?"

"Oh, John!" She rushed into his arms and hugged him hard, burying her nose into the crook between his shoulder and his neck. He could feel her tears, warm and wet, on his skin. _I guess this is a day for hugs_ , he thought.

"I wasn't sure you would come," he said into her hair.

She continued to cling to him. "I hoped you would be one of the tributes," she murmured. "When we heard that they were bringing some of them back, I prayed that you would be one of them." She sniffled. "So, I kept checking the tree. And when I saw the signal, I got here as quickly as I could."

"I'm glad you did." He let go of her and stepped back, keeping his hands on her shoulders. "You were careful, though, right? You know there's a revolution and it's more dangerous than ever to be out." He shook his head. "I shouldn't have even asked you to meet, but I wanted so badly to see you."

She nodded. "I'm glad you did. The news in Twelve is sketchy, especially about the other districts, but we know about the revolution. I made sure I wasn't seen." She took his hand and led him a little deeper into the mine entrance. "From what I can tell, you seem just the same." She inhaled sharply. "Are you?"

John laughed, hoping to put her at ease. "Pretty much. I have all my memories. It's just taking a while to get used to the body. Every time I pick up a weapon, I have to think about how to use it. Nothing comes naturally."

"Is that why they brought you back? To fight the revolution in Twelve?"

John shrugged. "I haven't spent any time with the SHIELD powers-that-be yet," he replied, "so I'm not sure why they brought me back. It doesn't really matter, though. I've chosen my own mission. I'm part of a rescue team that's going after children who were kidnapped and are being tortured."

In the darkness, he could barely make out her frown. "Does that mean you're leaving? You're not staying home in Twelve?"

He nodded. "Yes."

Her voice caught. "Why, John? It sounds dangerous."

He almost laughed again. It felt like he was having to explain himself a lot today. "Because it's a worthy reason to fight, Cheryl."

She let go of his hand. The only thing he heard for a minute was her soft breathing. Finally, she said, "Is the Prince girl part of the rescue team? Is that why you're going — to be with her? We all saw you on the broadcast."

"Di?" he asked in surprise. "No." Then, he amended, "Well, she's leading the team, but she's not the reason I'm rescuing the children. I was going to save them even before I knew she had survived the Games."

Cheryl did not seem convinced. "This doesn't seem like you, John. You were never a fighter."

He sighed. "I was never in the Games before, either. It changes you." When she didn't reply, he took hold of her hand again. "Do you remember, years ago, when we were camping and you told me that I shouldn't expect the world to be fair — that fair is a child's word?"

"Yes."

"Well, I guess I'm still a child, then, because I believe the world should be fair — or at least fairer than it is now. And I'm willing to fight to make it that way."

She was silent for a few moments. Then, she said, "You're right. You have changed."

"For the better, I hope."

She sighed. "I think so, although I don't like that it puts you in danger, especially when you've just gotten your life back. Promise me you won't take unnecessary chances? That you'll come home to me?"

He squeezed her hand. "That's the plan."


	11. Chapter 11: Compliance to Confusion

**(A/N): Welcome back to our Tuesday update! This time, let's check in with our resident brainwashed Hawkeye...**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed. Thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for continuing to rock our reviews section and the Practically an Avenger for a pretty darn amazing review blitz! Gotta admit: we laughed at the fact that we "suck in all the right ways." We must be doing something right!**

* * *

 **Chapter Eleven - Compliance Leads to Confusion**

 **District Twelve SHIELD Base**

 **Kate Bishop, formerly of District Twelve**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _It's all fun and games until somebody loses their mind." -Taylor Swift, "Wonderland"_

* * *

Kate hated the room that Logan had put her in. She hated Logan. She hated SHIELD.

The room was too bright, too clean, too impersonal. They wouldn't give her anything to play with — no weapons, no bow, nothing. They claimed it was for her _safety_ , but Kate knew the truth. They knew that she was dangerous. They knew that if she could only get the slightest chance, she'd have Logan at her mercy. She'd finally get to do what she had been dreaming of for so long…

But why?

Ever since America had asked her that, Kate couldn't stop thinking about it. Why _did_ she want Logan dead so badly? She had been focused for so long on the hatred, on the _need_ to kill him, that the reason… the reason escaped her.

If she believed Clint — and she _wanted_ to, though she couldn't remember _why_ — then whatever had happened between Logan and Kurt… they hadn't been in their right minds. Not that she could quite wrap her head around why that made things better when she couldn't remember _what_ had happened. She hadn't even remembered Kurt's name until she saw him with Logan.

And seeing Clint again also had her straining to remember more. Seeing America again… these were her friends, and she hated that she couldn't wrap her head around more than that simple fact: that they were friends. That she trusted them.

It had never mattered before that she didn't remember much from her life prior to Hydra. She had thought about it sometimes, sure, but… it had always been secondary to her goal of making herself into the best weapon Hydra could use. Her past hadn't _mattered_... until it suddenly did.

Her head _hurt_ when she tried too hard to remember, though. She could remember bits and pieces sometimes, but only when she wasn't _trying_. Like the fact that Clint had balled up his jacket for her to sleep on. Or that Kurt had taught her how best to hold a sword. But, frustratingly, none of that came to her when she _reached_ for it. She almost had to be unfocused, even dreaming, before she could seize those precious pieces now that she actually wanted them.

And then there were times that she didn't want them. She wanted to forget. She wanted to go back to the way things were, when Hydra would tell her what to do, when she had a clear idea of who she was and _what_ she was and she wasn't locked in a room feeling very much like an insect under glass.

She had a handler here, too, and she didn't like that. Charles Xavier said that he was there to help her, but to Kate's estimation, he was only there to turn her against Hydra, and that was the _one_ constant she had left to her. She knew, beyond everything else that had happened, that she belonged to Hydra. Everything else would work itself out if she could just find her way back to them. She was their weapon. She was Hydra's. She _needed_ to be part of Hydra again.

Kate let out a sort of frustrated sound as she kneaded her knuckles into her forehead. This was too confusing. This _hurt_. She didn't want to be there. She wanted her friends back. She wanted Sin and Natasha. She wanted Kurt and Clint and America.

She really didn't know what she wanted. She just didn't want to be _here_.

"Headaches again?" asked a familiar voice at the doorway.

Kate glanced up to see Charles Xavier there with the same sort of smile that she supposed was supposed to look warm but really came across as more sympathetic — and she didn't want his pity. She would have been just _fine_ if Logan hadn't shown up. Viper wouldn't be after her friends… she wouldn't be in this room… she would be with Hydra, where she _belonged_ ….

"Kate," Charles said gently to get her attention again. He had started out calling her Katherine, but he'd stopped doing that. He was checking in on her multiple times a day, it seemed, but it was just that first time they'd met that he'd used her full name.

She wondered if he was trying to differentiate himself from her other handler. Kilgrave had always used her full name. But she wasn't sure how Charles would know that. She didn't think she had told him anything, and even her body language, she thought, hadn't been too obvious. She had only tensed for a second when she heard it, waiting for orders or for another dressing down or for….

Well, Charles hadn't asked anything of her just yet. But she was sure that was coming once they broke her defenses, the ones Hydra had helped her build…

"Yes," she said when she realized Charles was going to wait her out and make her talk to him. She hated the long silences, and he must have realized that, because he seemed to be adept at using them. "Yeah, another headache."

"And what is it that you were trying to remember this time?" Charles asked gently.

Kate frowned and glanced up. Charles hadn't shifted his expression from the warm, pitying one that she hated, but he had moved so that he was sitting almost directly across from her, patiently waiting for her answer.

She frowned and looked away again. She didn't like working with Charles. There were times when she felt like he knew too much, like he could see right through her, all the way down to her shoes. It was like sitting in a room with Whitehall; she felt exposed and vulnerable.

"Everything," she said at last, unable to sit in silence any longer.

Charles nodded, leaning forward and resting his chin on the hands he had clasped in front of him. "My theory," he said softly, "is that your handlers used the trauma of the Games to erase your identity — as much as possible."

"That's not true," Kate said, almost automatically.

"It is," Charles said calmly. He was always so infuriatingly calm, as if Kate were simply an interesting project to him. She wished that he would drop the act and just come out with whatever it was he wanted from her so that she could _leave_.

"It's not," Kate said, stubbornly, and looked down at her hands.

Charles gave her another patient smile but didn't move. "Kate," he said, "I don't believe that you're so far gone that you don't understand that Hydra has been twisting you this whole time. You're far too bright not to see it."

Kate blinked at him. She absolutely hadn't been expecting this particular kind of argument, and she didn't know what to say to counter it. Especially when there was enough truth to it that it was hard to find the words to explain why he didn't understand the _whole picture_.

Yes, Hydra had molded her into a weapon, but didn't he understand that she _needed_ to be molded, that she couldn't reach her full potential without their help? Didn't he understand how badly she needed to be part of a whole, how much she _wanted_ to prove her worth?

She _belonged_ to Hydra. Here, in SHIELD, she was a prisoner.

When Kate didn't say anything, Charles continued, "Hydra was experimenting on young children to see if they could manipulate the same system that brought you back to life to essentially get a blank slate — a mind unburdened by attachments or previous loyalties."

Kate sat up straighter, any argument she might have offered caught in her throat as she whispered, "What?"

"I don't believe that to be the case for you, Kate," Charles assured her.

"Then why bring it up?" Kate asked.

"Because I want you to understand the lengths that Hydra was willing to go to in order to force innocent children to work for them," Charles explained.

"What does that have to do with me?" Kate demanded, though the flush to her cheeks plainly gave away that she already suspected what he would say.

"Kate, you are only sixteen," Charles said.

"I'm not a child," Kate said, bristling at the insinuation as she drew herself up. At least Hydra didn't treat her like a kid. They saw her potential. They made her a weapon, an assassin. "I'm not!"

* * *

 _Kate had her eyes closed as she lay on her side, almost holding her breath. Kilgrave was next to her, a pleased smile on that she couldn't look at anymore._

 _She wanted to show Hydra that she was theirs, that she was good, that she would do anything for Hydra. She did. She was desperate to do so. But…_

" _You've come so far, Katherine," Kilgrave said over her shoulder, and her eyes popped open at the contact as her throat constricted. He had his hand in her hair and brushed it away from her face, though he didn't let go, and Kate turned to face him at the tug of her hair. "You're not the little girl that came to Hydra, broken and lost after those Games."_

 _Kate nodded, her breath still caught in her chest as he ran his hand down her face. "Hydra made me better than that," she agreed._

" _I made you better than that," Kilgrave said, taking her chin in his hand so that she couldn't look anywhere but him. "Don't forget that. I made you the woman you are."_

 _She nodded again. "Yes," she breathed out. "I know. I belong to you."_

 _Kilgrave smiled, altogether too pleased as he shifted to whisper in her ear, his cheek against hers. "Good girl."_

* * *

"Kate." Charles' voice rang with concern, and it was only then that Kate realized she had moved away from Charles, no longer sitting on her bed but standing on the other end of the room, her back nearly against the wall. She didn't even remember moving, but she couldn't quite catch a breath right.

"I…" She swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, I…"

"There's nothing to apologize for, Kate," Charles assured her. "Please, sit down. I'm concerned about you."

"I'm fine," she said. She didn't want SHIELD to think she was weak. She was a weapon; she wasn't weak.

"That's patently untrue, I'm afraid, but it's not your fault," Charles told her. "I've tried to tell you: I just want to help you become 'fine' again."

"No," she said, shaking her head. She didn't want to _need_ help, because she didn't want to go back. Whitehall was dead, but that chair was still there, and she didn't want — she couldn't take it if SHIELD did that too.

"Kate…"

"I'm _fine_." She pushed aside the rising tears and tried to give her voice as much conviction as she could. If he didn't think he could break her, if he didn't think she was weak… "I'm not a child."

Charles paused, his patient look giving way to a deep frown for an instant. She thought she could see anger behind his gaze, even though he tried not to let it show for too long.

She almost wanted to shout a triumphant 'ha!' when she saw that anger. She _knew_ he wasn't as nice as he seemed. She _knew_ that he wanted something out of her. He wasn't some kindly man in a wheelchair; he was trying to manipulate her. And she'd finally gotten under his charade.

So he surprised her, then, when he said, simply, "I'm sorry."

"What?"

"I should have chosen my words more carefully," Charles said, his gentle tone back from earlier. "I didn't mean to imply that you were anything less than you are. I know that you've worked hard to be good at what you do. Natasha and Sinthea both speak highly of you."

Kate was caught off her guard, not sure what this new play was. "Yeah, well… they're my team," she said. She didn't want to say they were her friends, because it had been her experience that handlers and friends didn't mix well. And she didn't want Charles to think that he had any leverage, either.

"I know that Sinthea refers to you as sisters," Charles said, gesturing for her to take a seat, and Kate did so, the tight feeling in her chest starting to let up with something more fun to talk about.

"We take care of each other," Kate said with a nod.

"So I've heard," Charles agreed. He smiled Kate's way. "I don't want to undo that friendship, Kate. I think it's a sign of your strength that you are still able to make those connections. I know that Hydra discourages them."

"Like SHIELD is any different," Kate bit out.

"Kate, I think you'll find if you were to listen to a recording of all our conversations that I have not once tried to entice you to join SHIELD," Charles said in an almost tired tone. "I am not trying to compare the two organizations or extol the virtues of one over the other. My only goal here is to see what methods _you_ were subjected to while in Hydra's power — and to reverse those methods as much as possible to give you your freedom."

Kate bit her lip, shaking her head almost unconsciously. "I belong to Hydra," she said. It was the right answer; it was always the right answer.

"You don't belong to _anyone_ , Kate," Charles said. "You are a sixteen-year-old girl, not some piece of property to be traded away."

Kate raised her eyebrows at the honest anger that she could hear in his tone, but then she switched to a more satisfied, smug smile. "It really gets to you, doesn't it? That I'm so young?" She tipped her chin up. "You can't stand that someone like me could have taken down Fury."

Charles shook his head at that. "That's not what bothers me, Kate," he said. "I admit, the fact that you are only sixteen is part of my frustration — but not with you." He let his shoulders drop as he tried to look more open. "I don't believe that those who would stoop to torturing young people deserve my courtesy."

"Then why are you with SHIELD?" Kate demanded. "They're the ones that sent us into the Games. They're the ones that killed — that killed—" She closed her eyes as a familiar screaming filled her memories. "They killed him. I had to listen to it, and I can't get it out of my head."

But that only had Charles leaning forward and looking more interested. "You remember it, don't you?" he asked in almost a whisper. "You remember the Games."

"Sometimes," she admitted. She had her head in her hands, the heels of her hands pressed into her forehead to try to relieve the headache that always came when she tried to remember anything. She rubbed her hands in small circles as she took deep breaths. "I don't remember all of it."

"It will come," Charles said.

"And what if it doesn't?" Kate asked without looking up. "What about… you said something about blank slates…"

"As I understand it, Whitehall's methods relied on making use of traumatic memories, not on their erasure," Charles said. "And your team was under Whitehall's command, wasn't it?"

Kate nodded. "He's dead now," she muttered.

"And I would like to make sure he doesn't have a more lasting impact on anymore innocent people," Charles said. "As I've tried to explain to you before, I am on your side, Kate."

Kate rubbed her hands in circles on her forehead until the taste of bitter adrenaline faded from her mouth, and she finally looked back up at Charles, who was still patiently waiting in his chair. "Tell me something," she said slowly, "and tell the truth."

"I will never lie to you, Kate," Charles promised.

Kate watched him for a long time, looking for any signs of a lie, but when she couldn't find any, she nodded slowly. "If — _if_ — I trust you," she said slowly, "will you tell me more about Kurt?"

Charles looked surprised, one eyebrow raised. "I can certainly do that," he said. "But now I'd like to ask you: why is that your condition?"

"It's not unusual, is it?" Kate said. "All I can remember is how much it hurt to lose him. And when I saw him, I knew his name…" She trailed off, suddenly flushing. "Those are my terms. Take them or leave them."

"What is it you want to ask me, Kate?" Charles asked.

Kate weighed her answer out for a long time, running her thumb over the back of her knuckles. She didn't have her bow with her, but she wanted to run her hands over it. A calming gesture.

She knew she was taking a risk. She knew that if she had told Kilgrave even this much, Kurt would be in trouble, moved somewhere to the other side of Marvel where she could never find him again. She wasn't supposed to make connections that superseded her loyalty to Hydra; and if SHIELD was the same way, then this… this could make everything worse.

But all she had at the moment was a headache and a desperate desire for the world to make sense again. Hydra wasn't there to give her direction, so until they did arrive, at least she could try to figure out _why._

That question was still bothering her. Why did she hate Logan? Why couldn't she remember her friends? What had happened to her?

When she thought about it, it only made her head hurt more. But this? This was important enough to try.

"Is he here?" Kate asked, raising her gaze to meet Charles'. He had been sitting there, patient as ever, this whole time, and it was the first time Kate was grateful for that.

Charles considered her, and she could see the gears in his head turning. She knew that he was weighing it out: he had just promised not to lie to her, but she was asking about secrets, about SHIELD's program, about personnel on the base. She could see all the tactical reasons he had not to give her what she wanted, and she wouldn't blame him if he didn't answer.

Well, she would blame him. But she would understand it. She could understand how SHIELD and Hydra worked, the calculations that they made with their assets….

"Yes," Charles said at last, gently. "And I don't mind telling you that he would love to see you again."

Kate tried not to let her relief show, tried to keep things tactical, but it was clear to anyone watching that she had been hoping to hear that. "But you can't let that happen," she said after a moment, almost resigned.

"I'm afraid not."

"Because I belong to Hydra, and he belongs to SHIELD."

Charles shook his head. "Kate, neither of those statements is accurate."

Kate closed her eyes and shook her head. "I won't hurt him," she breathed out. "I swear."

"And if you were in your right mind, I would believe you," Charles said, his pitying tone returning.

Kate squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter. "Get out."

"Kate—"

" _Get out!_ " she shouted, on her feet in an instant — which, of course, had the guards outside the cell rushing in to protect their precious victor. Even though Charles held out his hand to tell them to stand down, they were still watching Kate, weapons down but ready to tranquilize her if need be — as she knew already from the first session with Charles. Which had gone poorly.

"Kate, listen to me—"

"You're just like them!" she screeched at him, her hands in fists — and the guards moved so that they were blocking Charles. "You're just like Hydra! I hate them — and I hate you!" She burst forward, slightly faster than the guards could react, and knocked the feet out from underneath the closer guard. He went down fast, but his partner managed to get his gun in between himself and Kate just in time.

At the same time Kate pounced, he pulled the trigger, and while she still managed to knock the guard out cold, she felt the strength leaving her limbs fast as her vision started to blur.

"I'm so sorry, Kate," Charles said as thing started to go fuzzy.

"No you're not," she mumbled, though she wasn't sure he caught it for as hard as it was to form the words before the world blanked out.


	12. Chapter 12: Detective

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Let's check in with savy160's Jason Todd, shall we?**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed for your continuing support. And GCBG, we couldn't stop grinning when all those reviews came in! Yes, we know we're doing a lot of setup in this first round of the last book, but we're definitely setting up some great fights too. Just hang in there. (And for the record, there will be NO Rick-ing of the Nightwing. That whole storyline is just...wrong.)**

* * *

 **Chapter Twelve - Detective**

 **Hydra Base, The Captiol**

 **Jason Todd, formerly of District Six**

 **Written by savy160**

* * *

 _"Have the courage to walk into the darkness but have the strength to return to the light."_ — _Parables of the Allspring, Destiny_

 _"A man chooses; a slave obeys." - Andrew Ryan, BioShock_

* * *

 _"The thing is: we're all capable of murder, Bird Brain. Even you. Some of us are just too afraid. The ones who aren't have the power to control life itself. This is how you separate the strong from the weak, and I'm going to show you exactly how that works."_

 _The rope biting into his flesh._

 _"Jack, stop! Please! You're killing him!"_

 _The sickening sound of bones shattering._

 _"Well, that's not a tattoo at all. It's a brand. You know, where I come from, that's the mark of a slave. Who owns you?"_

 _Blood everywhere._ _The cackle. The unending pain. The humiliation. Death_

* * *

It was the second time Jason had woken up naked, with the feeling of soft, silky sheets against his skin. The incense nipped at his nostrils, creating a burning sensation when he breathed in. The sleeping beauty lay with her back turned towards him.

Jason slowly exhaled before pulling the elegant sheets away from his body and silently slipping off the bed. Jason quickly redressed just as Talia rolled over to meet his gaze. Her eyes held a look of sheer disappointment.

"Stay," she commanded him.

"I need to—"

"Timothy is fine," she replied, reaching for her robe. "Now, sit."

Once he was halfway dressed, Jason obeyed her command. He sank down at the foot of the bed as she caressed his bare shoulders. It took everything he had not to flinch away from her vice-like grip.

"Something's wrong," she purred in his ear.

"When I took Stane out, he called me a clone. Is it true?"

"Does it matter?"

"It matters to me."

Talia sighed. "Of course you are, Jason."

"But, I'm not Jason, am I?"

"You are. You have his memories, his body, his thoughts. You are him reincarnated. All that matters is that you are willing to serve Hydra. Think of what we can do for you and your darling, little brother. Besides, do you really want to become one of those mindless zombies that Red Skull has running around? Is that what you want when you know not everyone in Hydra is as loyal to him as he desires?" She raised an eyebrow. "Some of us are simply biding our time, Jason. I know you don't truly want to belong to the Skull."

 _It's so hard to be yourself when so much is on the line._ Jason huffed but tamped down the witty retort he wanted to make. "No."

"I thought so. Just remember where your loyalty lies. You may go now."

Jason robotically followed her orders. Slipping a shirt over his head, he quietly left the room and quickly made his way back to his own livable prison. Pushing the door open, he found Tim sitting on the floor surrounded by stacks of paperwork.

"What are you doing?" Jason asked, one eyebrow raised.

"It's classified," Tim mumbled, not even bothering to look up from his work.

"Uh huh… This wouldn't be for Talia, would it?"

"It might be."

"Be careful with her. I'm still not sure if I trust her entirely."

"You don't trust anyone," Tim quipped.

Jason shrugged as he bent down by Tim. His gaze roamed to the paperwork filled with codes and symbols that looked an awful lot like squiggly lines. Growing tired of staring at the nonsense, Jason finally asked, "Did you know I was a clone?"

Tim made no move to respond.

"Did you know?" Jason repeated.

"I just wanted my brother back," Tim mumbled. "It didn't matter how it happened when I saw you again."

Jason didn't respond. He merely left the room without a word or a glance back. But sulking was completely out of the question when one of the Red Skull's guards appeared.

"Red Skull has requested your presence."

"Of course he has," Jason grumbled.

Nonetheless, Jason followed the guard through the darkened hallways before coming to a stop before the Red Skull's desk. The red-skinned demon was seated at his desk with a glass of brandy in his hand, and his back was turned to the fireplace. The flames seemed to dance right off his back.

Setting his glass down, Red Skull addressed Jason without turning. "I have another job for you."

"Who do you want me to kill now?"

Johann Schmidt drummed his gloved fingers against the wood. "No one this time. I'm sending you out on a scouting mission to District Seven. My sources have seen several rebels going in and out of the district. I believe that's where SHIELD's base is. This is purely a reconnaissance mission, so don't screw it up. I trust you can do this for once."

"So, you want me to just wander around District Seven? Why not send someone else that isn't supposed to be dead?"

"Do not question my orders." The Red Skull paused. "While you are there, keep an open eye. If you find Sinthea, bring her to me. I will teach her what happens to traitors. She will become an example of all those who oppose me."

"Imagine that — someone actually turning against you," Jason deadpanned.

Schmidt exhaled slowly. "There's a transport waiting to take you to Seven. Your pilot has more instructions," he said simply.

Jason took that as his cue to exit. He quickly dressed in jeans, a long sleeved t-shirt, and his signature leather jacket. A knife and a gun were his only weapons of choice. He couldn't exactly walk into SHIELD's base of operations fully-armed without setting off every alarm… if their base was even there.

A full fifteen minutes later, Jason was seated in the hovercraft, being briefed by one of Red Skull's men.

"We cannot land in the district without someone getting suspicious. You'll descend by parachute. When you land at precisely this location, you'll find your method of transportation. Be careful traveling along the roads. We can't have you being seen. The cover of nightfall will help with this operation. Is that a problem?" the man asked, looking up from a the map he was pointing at.

"No."

"Good. Moving on, where you land will also be your extraction point. You have twenty-four hours to infiltrate Wayne Manor."

"I'm sorry… Did you say Wayne Manor?"

"That's where we believe SHIELD's base is. In twenty-four hours, we'll know for sure."

Jason shook his head. _What in the hell is Red Skull thinking? Parachuting into Seven? Searching the freaking grounds of Wayne Manor?_ _And what if I find Sin? According to Talia, the bitch has it out for me. I'll just have to take her out first if it comes down to it._

"Any questions?" the man asked, bringing Jason out of his thoughts.

"What if I see someone I know? How will I explain that I'm alive?"

"Kill them if you have to — but SHIELD has been airing secrets. You can always say you're one of theirs."

* * *

" _You… you're letting me go?" Jason wasn't sure what to do. He had been stuck with the Red Skull for so long that this seemed like a trap._

 _Red Skull merely flashed his overly perfect teeth before replying, "You're merely being placed on the streets to serve me. I release no one. Remember who you belong to. I want weapons, I want chaos in this district, I want gangs destroyed, I want Sentinels on their knees begging for mercy, and I want you to cause it."_

" _How?"_

" _Figure it out on your own. Now go. And if you even think of running or trying to escape me, I will know_ — _and you will suffer."_

* * *

Jason was lost in his thoughts and memories for the entire trip to Seven. It was all his fault. Schmidt had turned him loose to create chaos. Bizarre and Artemis wound up dead because he wouldn't follow Red Skull's warning to work alone. Then there was Tim, the bargaining chip keeping Jason in line, bending his will to match Red Skull's.

"This is your stop," the pilot announced, bringing Jason back to the present. "Try not to hit any trees on your way down. Red Skull would be pissed if you die before your time… again."

Jason merely grunted in response as he strapped the parachute to his back.

The first time jumping out of a plane was absolutely thrilling. The wind rushing against his face. The spinning of the earth. The tree. _Oh shit! The tree!_

Jason cried out as his body smacked hard against a trunk. After spinning around for what felt like eternity, he finally got his wits about him to look up and see his parachute completely entangled in a tree limb.

Jason shifted slightly to retrieve his trusty hunting knife. Pulling himself up, he sawed through the first cord. It split in two with a loud snap. Jason swallowed the lump in his throat as he set about working on the second cord. The cord split in two, sending him spiraling towards solid ground. The second he hit the ground, he rolled. Getting back on his feet, Jason was immediately overcome with a sense of awe and wonder as he gazed around at the dense forest and tall trees around him. He'd never seen so much green in one place.

 _Touristy time's over,_ he thought as he removed what was left of his harness. Jason's gaze roamed over every inch of his surroundings before coming to a stop on a very nice bike. Jason's eyes lit up in pleasure as he ran his hands over the sleek exterior of the powerful machine.

Wasting no time, Jason sped off in the direction of the road that would take him to Wayne Manor.

He was nearly there when he noticed something else — a skinny, brown-haired teenager about Jason's age being harassed by a few low-level Hydra soldiers, likely the same ones that had sent the reports to Red Skull about the rebels going to and from Wayne Manor.

"Come on, kid. It'd go so much better if you talked," one of them threatened, twisting the young man's arms behind him.

"I told you; there's nothing to talk about. I haven't done anything but go to a market!" the boy replied, thrusting his chin out — though that only had one of the Hydra soldiers twisting his arms harder until he cried out.

Jason had seen enough. Hydra or not, he wasn't going to let this stand. Rushing into the clearing, Jason skidded the bike onto its side, kicking off of it before it crashed into one of the soldiers, knocking him clean off of his feet. The soldier holding the boy glared at Jason in surprise, but the captured teenager took the distraction as a cue to fight, throwing an elbow into the soldier's middle and then using his head to bash the guy in the face.

Jason took the boy's cue and dove at the soldier that the bike had knocked over. He simply started bashing the soldier with the back end of his knife as the brunette boy wrangled a weapon from the soldier he was facing.

The boy leveled the weapon, and the soldier sneered. "Give it up, kid. You don't know how to use it."

"You sure about that?" the brunette asked, one eyebrow raised as he held the soldier's gaze and clicked the safety off of the gun. "Now, how about you answer some of _my_ questions?"

But before he could go any further, Jason threw a pair of knives, embedding them into the soldier's chest and startling the young man.

"You alright?" Jason asked.

"Why did you do that?" the brunette demanded. "There was no reason to kill him!"

Jason snorted and waved him off. "Yeah, sure. What are you doing out here alone, kid?"

The young man flipped the safety back on the rifle as he locked his jaw. "Scott Summers." Scott extended his hand for Jason to shake, though Jason didn't move to take it. "Don't call me kid. We're almost the same age," he added as he slung the rifle over his shoulder. He narrowed his eyes at Jason. "What are _you_ doing here, anyway? Previously dead tributes don't just show up for no reason."

Jason shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Guess you could say I'm just looking for somewhere safe."

Scott seemed to weigh it out for a moment before he tipped his chin up. "Are you SHIELD or HYDRA?"

"I'm Jason."

Scott gave him an incredibly dry look. "Right." He let out a long sigh before he nodded once. "If you're really looking for someplace to get away, I can help you, but that bike is only going to draw attention," Scott said. "We're not that far from a place you can hide. Follow me."

With that, Scott led Jason through the woods, occasionally turning his head slightly to see what Jason was up to as they made their way through the woods. It was obvious Scott didn't entirely trust Jason, but he didn't say anything, and Jason wasn't about to, either.

"Make a left up at the edge of the clearing," Scott instructed him.

"You never did tell me what you were doing out there all alone."

"And you never told me what side you were on. Take a right by the lodgepole." Scott hesitated when he saw Jason frown deeply. "The tall skinny pine tree."

A solid twenty minutes later, Wayne Manor seemed to appear from the pine trees, and Scott beckoned Jason to follow him. Leaving the woods behind them, Jason slowly followed Scott, who crept his way down a winding path that dipped and curved through the sparser trees to what appeared to be a back entrance to the mansion. Scott quietly opened the door and hung the gun he'd taken next to the door. Jason's jaw nearly dropped in amazement as a flock of children trickled in to greet Scott cheerfully — and to his great surprise, to look at him as well. What's more, a familiar face was among them.

"Kara?" Jason asked in surprise.

"Jason?" Kara said with wide eyes. "How — I didn't know SHIELD brought you back." She paused and narrowed her eyes. "You are with SHIELD, right? Or are you one of Hydra's?"

"Neither. I'm my own man on my own side," Jason replied.

"I _know_ you didn't come back on your own."

"Look, it doesn't matter _how_ I came back. All that matters is that I'm back and you're back. That's all that matters."

A redheaded girl about Jason's age stepped up to the three of them. She adjusted her glasses as she looked Jason over. "How do we know we can trust him?"

"We don't," Scott said. "He refused to tell me which side he was on, but last I checked, Hydra didn't try to help captured kids." He rubbed the back of his neck with one hand as he shrugged. "I got caught up by a couple of soldiers."

The redhead frowned harder at that. "Scott—"

"I was just making a supply run, Barbara. They're just suspicious of how many people we've got here. We need to do a better job of keeping our heads down."

Both of the girls looked surprised, and the redhead pulled Scott aside to talk strategy, while Kara studied Jason more closely with her head tipped to the side and her arms crossed over her ches. Jason looked away as an elderly man approached them.

"Look, if I'm intruding, I can just leave—" Jason began before the older gentleman cleared his throat.

"You'll do no such thing until you've had dinner with us," the man said, clearly and kindly. The others looked almost as surprised as Jason was. Jason immediately moved to decline, but the old man was firm. "Nonsense. Any friend of Master Richard's is a friend of mine. Forgive me, Mister Todd; I am Alfred Pennyworth. It is my job to see to the affairs of the household at large, and that includes making sure that no guest of the Wayne household leave these grounds without being fed."

If guilt could kill, Jason would have dropped dead. This was Dick's family. No way in hell could he tell Red Skull about the orphans using his old ally's house as refuge. There was no base here, so why would Red Skull even care about a bunch of innocent kids?

Despite the fact that he was practically being eaten away by the guilt, dinner was delicious. Alfred could sure as hell cook. And when he was properly stuffed, Alfred informed him there was a spare space for him to sleep — though Jason tried to decline the offer.

"You may as well; it's not like you have anywhere else to go," Kara said, her eyes narrowed as if she was daring Jason to contradict her.

And that's how Jason ended up on a sleeping bag in a room with Scott Summers, who still looked suspicious and wouldn't relax enough to go to sleep. But Jason was too tired to care and eventually fell asleep himself.

* * *

 _He was back in the arena. Always the arena. Dick's cries were muffled by a shirt in his mouth, and Jack was running the tip of his knife over the edges of the skull brand..._

 _"How did you get this? Back-talked? Stole? Lied? Hmm?"_

 _"Go to h-hell."_

 _"Only if you come with me." Jack sighed before leaning down and whispering, "I'm going to give you your new brand now, and you're not going to scream, talk, fight me, or even move. You'd make me mess up if you did. Ruining my masterpiece won't be good for my temper… And if you piss me off anymore, I'll just have to take it out on Timmy over there. You don't want me to hurt him, do you? Hmm?"_

 _Jason's eyes widened as Tim appeared where Dick had been only seconds before._

 _No._

" _Tim! You stay the hell away from him, you sick bastard!"_

* * *

Jason woke up to Scott shaking his shoulder, and for his trouble, the brunette nearly got a face full of Jason's fist.

"Woah! Easy. You're safe. You're in Wayne Manor," Scott said, both hands out as Jason struggled to get control of himself. Jason rolled over and turned his back to Scott.

"Who's Tim? You were screaming for him," Scott asked. When Jason didn't respond, he let out a breath. "Look, if there's someone else in trouble, we can help if—"

Jason didn't bother to answer. He was already on his feet. He couldn't stay there any longer. He was nearly out the door when he ran almost smack dab into Alfred.

"Hello, Mister Todd. Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," Jason bit out.

For a long moment, the old man considered Jason before he nodded. "Of course. And as much as I hate to see a young man in so much turmoil leaving so soon, I would not be able to see you go without making sure you take something to eat with you." To Jason's surprise, Alfred held out a cloth containing several cookies.

Jason raised an eyebrow. "How did you know I'd run?"

"My dear boy, I know everything." The butler's eyes twinkled. "Be sharp. I hope to see you again."

Jason didn't bother to respond as he took the bundle from Alfred before running out the door and disappearing into the night.

* * *

The second Jason made it back to the hovercraft, he tuned the orphans out of his mind and chose to focus on getting his story straight. What was he supposed to tell Red Skull? He couldn't let those kids get hurt, and he didn't want to betray Dick's family...

The ride back to the Capitol was too short, and by the time they arrived, Jason practically dragged himself where Schmidt sat waiting.

The first words out of the Red Skull's mouth were, "And the base is where I suspected?"

"Your informant was wrong. There is no base there."

"But you found something nonetheless."

"Nothing of importance. I swear."

Red Skull pursed his lips and drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair before snapping his fingers. One of his guards disappeared. Jason clenched and unclenched his fists due to pure nervousness, and he fought to swallow the lump in his throat as he heard the screaming coming down the hallway.

"Get off me! No! Let me go!" Tim screamed as he was dragged into the room.

Tim was deposited on the floor directly beside Schmidt's boots. Jason barely dared to breathe as Tim was pulled to his feet by a leather glove in his hair. Schmidt tightened his grip on Tim's raven locks before flashing a dark smile at the older teen. Jason took a step forward just as Tim whimpered.

Red Skull's eyes flashed in warning, and Jason stopped moving forward. The Skull smiled before seizing Tim's left wrist and snapping it. Tim immediately screamed — just as Jason took another step forward.

"I would not come any closer. The next thing I break will be his neck. Now, was there something you wanted to tell me?"

Jason practically took one sympathetic look at the way Tim cradled his broken wrist against his chest as the tears slid down his face. Save Tim or protect the orphans? As if he really had a choice. Saving Tim was the top priority — no matter what the consequences were.

"SHIELD is rescuing kids from the various districts and housing them at Wayne Manor. Kara Danvers is there helping — but there's nothing there but kids. Wayne Manor is useless to Hydra. It's just housing war orphans. That's it."

Red Skull seemed to mull over the information before dragging Tim over to his desk by his broken wrist. Tim's tears seemed to multiply as Red Skull threw the boy onto the floor before taking a long whip with bards from the hand of the guard that had dragged Tim into the room.

"You withheld information me, and therefore, you will be punished. However, I'm in a generous mood today. Either I give him fifty lashes or you give him fifteen. Your choice."

Like there really was a choice to begin with. No way in hell could he let that crispy asshole beat Tim so mercilessly. With a heavy heart, Jason took the whip in his hands. _Just do it quick and get it over with._ Jason cringed every time the whip cracked through the air. It broke his heart every time Tim cried out in agony. Fifteen lashes later, Tim's back was an unruly mess of blood and torn flesh.

Tossing aside the bloodstained whip, Jason dropped down beside Tim and gathered the younger boy into his arms. If looks could have killed, Jason's glare would have wiped the smug grin off Red Skull's face. _There is no devil in Hell. The devil is inside of that monster of a man._

Reclaiming his seat at his desk, Red Skull chuckled at Jason. "One of my greatest pleasures in life is breaking people. I enjoy making them suffer. I enjoy watching them fall apart. I enjoy watching their lives descend into utter chaos until the point of living simply diminishes. However, I never made it to that point with you. I don't give up so easily — which is why this is your last chance. You disappoint me again, and I'll kill that boy and have the ability to think for yourself removed. I will not be disobeyed. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Don't keep things from me, boy. It'll come back to haunt you."

Jason was dismissed by a wave of Red Skull's gloved hand. He quickly stood up with his brother in his arms and made his way back to their prison. Jason didn't know who to be angrier with: the bastard or himself.

"Baby Bird, I'm so—"

"Don't. Not your fault," Tim mumbled into Jason's shoulder.

Neither of them spoke a single word as Jason lay Tim down on the cot and immediately went about caring for the boy's wounds. Tim only let one tiny squeak escape from his lips as Jason disinfected his wounds and set his broken wrist.

Jason paused and dared to glance at Tim to see that Tim had passed out from the pain. Quickly brushing a hand through Tim's hair, Jason whispered, "I'm going to kill that bastard and get us outta here soon, Timmy. I promise."


	13. Chapter 13: Wakanda Forever

**(A/N) - Here we are - nearly Halloween, and back again for another Tuesday update! I think it's high time we saw what everyone's favorite goddess was up to, don't you? So today we turn to InDeepDarkWood's lovely Ororo Munroe aka Storm.**

 **Many thanks as always to our writers who took a moment to review, we're sure more will come in as time permits - and again, the gold star in rewards goes to Slim Summers2002 for his review as well. Our view counts are amazing ... please, feel free to dive in and let us know where you think we're going! And until then - an early Happy Halloween to everyone!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen** — **Wakanda Forever**

 **District Eleven**

 **Ororo Munroe, formerly of District Eleven**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _Human spirit is the ability to face the uncertainty of the future with curiosity and optimism. It is the belief that problems can be solved, differences resolved. It is a type of confidence. And it is fragile. It can be blackened by fear and superstition."_ \- Bernard Beckett

* * *

It was nice not being shot at for a while. Ororo had almost forgotten what it felt like to be able to just _sit_ and not wonder if the noise outside was going to try and kill her. It was nice to just be there, with the sun beating down on her through the open window and the stifling humidity that clawed at her nostrils like a breath of fresh air after the coolness of the mines. It was a shame, then, that the only thing missing — the one thing that could make her believe she was back home — was the sound of her family. Instead, dead silence that hung around the table.

Ororo never thought she would see her kitchen table again, and so she tried to hide the dismay that crept around her toes that it didn't really feel like _her_ kitchen table. It didn't really feel like _her_ home anymore. Monica sat across from her, in front of the rest, the protector of the little clan, an angry wound along her left forearm from fighting obvious even to Ororo's real eye. Little David kept gawking at her from his safe spot behind Goliath, who shifted uncomfortably when Ororo looked at him. Nanny was in her chair, watching her with hawk eyes full of distrust.

"Are you all just gonna sit there forever and stare?" Ororo blurted out finally, unable to handle the tension that crackled around them. She grimaced as Monica flinched slightly, looking surprised that Ororo could speak. "I'm _me_. I'm not some robot or something from the other world." She thrust her arm forward, rolling up a sleeve to show her own still-fresh wound. "I _bleed_. I'm _me_."

 _Are you really, though?_ a small voice asked in the back of her head. _Or are you someone else, some murdering little rat?_

"Prove it," Goliath said suddenly, his voice gravelly from the silence. "Tell us somethin' only you would know."

"Everyone has to leave at eighteen," she replied immediately. Monica let out an audible ' _Pfft'_ , and Ororo frowned.

"When I was nine, Chord dropped me into the orchard for the night, and I hit a mutt with an apple," she tried again.

"Nu-uh," Goliath said, shaking his head. "That ain't good enough. Somethin' that _we_ were part of." He gestured to the others for good measure.

"David!" Ororo turned her head, and David shrank back behind the giant Tom. "You and me, we went and got David. We saw the Sentinels take his pap away, and we went and pulled him from the wreckage." She paused, racking her brain. "And you said… you said that it was just a bad dream, and — and — and everything wasn't going to be alright, but it might just be a little bit better."

She saw a hint of a smile on Goliath's face and started to form one of her own.

"You ain't Ororo Munroe." Nanny's voice caused the smile to drop from Goliath's face, and Ororo's followed suit.

Ororo could feel a tremor run down her spine. "I am, Nanny. Look at me."

"You may _walk_ like Ororo, and you may _talk_ like her, and you may know some things, child, but I buried Ororo right next to Eric and Abar and all them others. If it's your time to go, it's your time. You don't come walkin' back into my house with the devil in your eyes."

"You told me if I came home, you'd keep me safe," Ororo said, her real eye getting fuzzy from tears that threatened to spill out.

"I told Ororo that, true, but you're just some demon ghost comin' back to taint this house," Nanny replied, rising from her chair like a scrawny vulture and pointing a finger at the rest of the group. "Y'all hear me, children? You talk to the devil-folk and they pull ya down to the other world. Y'all want to spend all yer days screamin' in the fires of the underworld?"

Even when Nanny told her children to leave the house as adults, Ororo had never seen the look in Nanny's eyes as she moved her pointing finger to rest on her. "You git from this house, and you never darken this doorway again. You stole Ororo's soul, but you will _not_ have no more."

Ororo scraped back the bench sharply. It clattered against the ground and lay on its side. "This _ain't_ no home of mine anymore." _You don't cry. You don't let them see you a-tremblin'._ She repeated Nanny's mantra over and over in her head as she stepped over the bench and stalked out of the kitchen, forcing her back straight. No one tried to stop her.

She slammed the door open and clattered against the wall as she burst out into the sunlight and stomped down the pathway back toward the dirt road that led to the main square. Forge was waiting for her and grimaced openly at the sound of her boots thudding against the ground.

"So it went well, then?" he asked, attempting a smile. Ororo glowered at him and grumbled a non-intelligible response. " _That_ well?"

"I thought it would be different!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration, nearly whacking Forge in the head as she did so. "I thought they'd be _happy_. I thought..." She trailed off, looking away from him and focusing on the road in front of her. "I better get back to work. Break time is over."

They walked in quiet for a few moments.

"You thought their belief in you would be stronger than their beliefs," Forge said at last, quietly. She heard the sharp sound of a foot connecting with a hard stone, but when he didn't even stumble, she ignored it and concentrated on his question.

"Yes." She sighed. "I thought… coming back from the dead was a good thing. Shuri and Hunter both accepted T'Challa's return. Even most of the people have accept him as leader."

"Shuri is one of the cleverest people Eleven has ever seen. Her acceptance of T'Challa carries weight that my acceptance of you just doesn't have." She glanced over to him, an eyebrow raised as he continued. "When T'Chaka was killed, Shuri acted as a mediator between M'Baku and J'onn. I think, if she wasn't too young, she would have campaigned and won the mayoral position. The people like Shuri. She is able to unite Eleven. I hope her brother has the same capability."

There was another crack of a foot meeting stone, and Ororo snapped her gaze down to Forge's feet. When they appeared intact, her heart rate accelerated, and she whipped around at a dead stop, her staff extending to its full height, braced for attack.

Jericho was standing before her, frozen mid-step, his eyes on the staff.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, keeping the staff out.

"I dunno anymore if yer gonna keep wavin' that staff at me," Jericho said, unfreezing enough to raise his hands. She lowered the bo slowly, her body language still wary. "Where you going?" he asked.

"Who wants to know?"

"Look, I spoke to Brother—"

"Adding another into the mix to call me a devil, then?" she interrupted, her brows furrowed into a scowl.

"Wormy, shut it! I ain't tellin' you you're a devil, you got that?" Her expression softened slightly, and so did his. "Brother and me, we been doin' some thinkin' and some chattin' with the spirits, and they don't think you're a demon."

"Your spirits agree with the Great Spirit," Forge put in, clasping Ororo's shoulder.

"I ain't sayin' there ain't somethin' wrong with you, but you're my sister, and me and Brother ain't leaving you anytime soon. We thought you was dead." Jericho gave Ororo a small sniffle, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, and then placed his other hand on her free shoulder, holding tight.

"That's two of your people that know you have a soul," Forge whispered in Ororo's ear.

"Three," Jericho corrected, oblivious to the flushed look that crept onto Forge's face. "Dammit Forge, why you always forgettin' 'bout Brother?"

* * *

The square was where the new base of operations was set up in Eleven. T'Challa wanted the people to feel like Eleven was their home and that they owned it; running around like rats in a mine was not a way to feel inspired. It was a hive of activity Ororo arrived with her friends — just like Ororo had left it. She moved straight for the Justice Building, waving at the pair of miners sitting on the steps, their focus on whatever plans were laid out on the ground before them.

She could hear the heated conversation before she saw the speakers, though even if the words were too dim for her to make out, the tone gave away the owners of the voices.

"T'Challa," she informed Jericho as her friend's low and confident tones slipped down the corridor from where they were headed. "J'onn," she said after a moment, rounding the corner to where the small group of people was gathered.

"You are showing you do not care about your people," J'onn was saying. "You are saying that their lives do not matter."

"Hey! He is _not_ saying anything like that," Hunter growled from the corner as Ororo edged over to stand beside Shuri, with Forge and Jericho following her. "All he's saying is—"

"If you want to lead as _I_ would," J'onn cut over Hunter, completely ignoring his words and not looking in his direction, "you would show some compassion for what has been lost."

Hunter glared. "We have been showing compassion, you ignorant piece of—"

"You are focusing too much on the present. You need to look toward the future and what they will think of you when they look _back._ "

Hunter made a loud groaning noise, his hands slamming against the arms of the chair. Beside Ororo, Shuri heaved a sigh as her brother insisted, "He's looking at _both_! We are trying to establish independence here, J'onnz!"

"This has been going on since you left," Shuri whispered to Ororo. "It's like watching turtles fight."

"Agonizingly slow, you mean?" Ororo whispered back, and Shuri smirked.

"J'onn," T'Challa said, giving the older man a pointed look. Ororo recognized that expression on his face, of pent-up frustration at a stalemate. Before Tahiti, she thought he would have just continued to use his words. Now, though, she was not so sure that he would not produce a blade or three. "I understand you are concerned for our people. I am concerned too. My concern currently lies with the ones who are _living_. There are people living away from the square that may be injured or dying or being tortured by Hydra or Sentinels."

"I do not think that is any more important than—"

"Living people, J'onn. _Living._ " This time, it was Hunter who interjected. It wasn't hard to see the flash of irritation cross J'onn's face.

"There will be a time to mourn our dead, J'onn," T'Challa said. "This is not the time. We _must_ secure our borders if we have any hope of continued freedom. Our medicine women and shamans are preparing our dead. We have _not_ forgotten them."

"You will regret this decision in time," J'onn stated through gritted teeth.

"Then, in time, you will have the easiest election campaign of your life to take leadership of Eleven." T'Challa turned from J'onn to his brother. "Now, Hunter, your Hatut Zeraze will split and sweep the orchards. J'onn, your men — who I know are loyal to you — should head for the gardens. Bring gardeners that you can find. Pamela Isley's work in the Games showed us just how useful the deadly plants can be. Pick them."

"And try not to die at their hands," Hunter added as he swept past the group and out.

"So, things are going well here, then?" Ororo asked after J'onn followed Hunter — once a suitable time had passed.

"How did your meeting go with your family, Ororo?" T'Challa asked. Ororo made a face, and T'Challa nodded. "About as well as things went here then, agreed?"

"Brother, these things take time," Shuri said. "You wanted J'onn's support; now you have to deal with the consequences."

"I still want his support, Shuri," T'Challa answered, and Ororo thought she caught half an eye roll. She nearly choked in surprise but decided not to interrupt any more of the family banter and began to edge toward the small room that held her radio transmitter, the door within the office. "I just wish I did not have to go through these headaches at every single decision."

"You are trying to be a leader, T'Challa. Headaches are part of the job description."

"So, you were dead too, huh?" Jericho piped up, tilting his head and taking in the tall man before him. "You come back all the way, or ya missin' a bit?"

Ororo watched T'Challa study Jericho for a moment. "I think I came back all the way, but then some things were taken from me," T'Challa answered, his words careful — as always.

"Me and Brother can help ya' find it," Jericho offered, still staring at T'Challa. "We good at findin' lost souls. And bread. We good at findin' bread too."

Ororo closed the door, cutting the conversation off and placing the head console onto her hair, squishing her mohawk down gently. She swung the tuner slowly, listening carefully for noise on the receiving end.

"Storm to home, Storm to home." She spoke into the microphone, enunciating her words as clearly as possible. She clicked onto the radio frequency she'd used on her initial arrival, then turned a little further as the only sound was white noise. "Storm to home."

 **Home to Storm, we read you.** The transmitter crackled into life, and Ororo smiled.

"Eleven is secure. Sentinels and Hydra agents are out. Our rebels are building their freedom."

 **Good to hear.** It took a moment for the lag to reach her. **Seven is also secure and offering safety for any in need, especially minors.**

"Looking for next objective now that here is safe," she said.

 **Five is falling. Four is fighting. Proceed to Twelve to regroup and await further instruction. Over and out.**

 _Falling._ Ororo felt her heart clench in her chest at the image of Five in ruins. _Steve._ She didn't know where he was. If he was fighting. If he was dead.

Heading back into the room, she tapped T'Challa on the shoulder.

"I've let the big guys know what's happening. They want me to go to Twelve." She didn't bother saying 'us'. There was no 'us'. T'Challa was able to rebuild their district; he had the tools and the strategy to do so. He needed to stay there. _And there's never any point in leaving a rebel place unguarded._

"Ororo, I do not like the idea of you fighting. There is too much bloodshed in our lives." T'Challa rested his hand on her cheek. "You and I, we have done a lot in a year. Some things we can be proud of; others, we cannot."

"We can make up for the others by fighting for what is right," she insisted.

"At what cost to you? Fighting leads to more bloodshed and darker paths."

"Fighting also leads to peace, T'Challa. You just have to remember what you're fighting for."

T'Challa sighed and leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "Just do not lose yourself, Ororo, in your quest to be strong." Ororo nodded, her forehead rubbing his with the motion, and then he stepped back, gesturing toward Forge, who had a stricken look on his face. "You are going with her, I presume?" he asked. Forge gave T'Challa a barely perceptible nod. "Good."

"I am going too, Brother," Shuri announced, nodding to herself. "Those SHIELD scientist are probably lost in a sea of research. I'll help them find their way."

"Ebersol is not as fun as you to tease, little sister, nor does he have your vision," T'Challa said begrudgingly, patting her on the head. "Please be safe."

"Please try not to let Hunter kill J'onn," she said in return. "We need a pilot."

T'Challa nodded in agreement, thinking for a moment. "Our borders need to be defended, but take as many as you can to help. I have seen the other districts; they deserve our help, and we must do what we can."

Ororo flashed him a thumb's up, making for the door, Forge already ahead of her.

"I'm gonna stay here," Jericho said, his arms crossed.

"You weren't invited anyway," Ororo replied, shooting him a look.

"Me and Brother gotta figure out T'Challa. He's a tricky one."

"Yeah, but he'll make Eleven strong."

 _We need to be strong,_ she thought, glancing toward T'Challa, who smiled a little. _The fight is not over, not for a long while._


	14. Chapter 14: Shepherd

**(A/N) - Welcome to November, where we're continuing Deep Week with InDeepDarkWood's Diana Prince!**

 **Many thanks to Just A Crazy-Man and Slim Summers2002 for taking a moment to review - we're glad to see you enjoying the story, and Slim, all I can tell you is that we have to keep to the constraints of where the characters originate in this universe, and that includes accents. (D11 is no Kenya.)**

* * *

 **Chapter Fourteen—Shepherds**

 **SHIELD base, District Twelve.**

 **Diana Prince of District Four**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _One of the things about a great team is that the whole exceeds the sum of its partners." -_ Tracy Hickman

* * *

Had Kaldur been alone in confronting the new director of SHIELD, Diana had no doubt that he would have burst through the door jabbing a metaphorical trident and demanded a ship. Diana had decided that a trio was far more difficult for Logan to deny than one person. Kaldur had changed since coming back, even in just the short while they had been reunited, but she doubted even dying would have quenched the hot-headedness she remembered him displaying.

Thankfully, though, he and John were recounting something when they reached Logan's current office, so Diana was able to hold off door-busting by acting as a human shield.

"You're sure that you want to be a part of this?" she asked quietly, her hand hovering inches from the door. It was to no one in particular. She had asked before, but this was the final chance they had to turn back.

"I swear on my new life," John said.

"What kind of man would I be if I did not?" Kaldur countered. "I have already pledged myself to the cause and asked for your aide in this effort. It would be cowardly to let others take my place."

"Very good," Diana said and rapped sharply on the door with her knuckles, waiting for a voice on the other side before opening the door and entering the room. Logan was standing there, leaning on the chair he was supposed to be sitting in, his arms crossed and looking as contemplative as he had been the first time she'd seen him in person. He glanced over to them steadily and nodded.

"Welcome back," he said, his gaze settling on the two boys behind Diana. "If you're ready to fight, we need all the help we can get."

"That's what we're here for," John said with a nod.

"Logan," Diana said, settling straight into business. "As you know, Bruce Wayne did not let me leave the transport when I heard that Four was under attack."

"It didn't make a lick of sense to go then, and you know it, Diana," Logan replied, tilting his face up to her. "I heard you gave it to him good for that, though."

"Aye," she said again. "I don't let my emotions always run away with me but...you know better than I what they can do to a person." She paused, wondering if he'd look away, but he held her gaze. She hadn't really spoken to the tribute-turned-leader before. She did notice that this time, he didn't have a drink in hand.

"I cannot sit idly by while people are in need," she continued. "My people – _our_ people – are warriors, and they can take care of themselves, but others are not. You know whom I speak of: the lambs Director Fury sent to the slaughter, the ones he decided to bring back without giving them a chance to learn how to fight."

"The ones stolen away," Kaldur put in, and Diana didn't have to look to see the diver was gritting his teeth.

"We're going to get them, Logan," John added, taking a step forward to stand beside Diana.

"You can try and stop us if you desire," Diana said, "but my sword is still sharp, and my lasso's aim is still true. John Constantine still has the best sleight of hand, even with a new vessel. He is good at diversions. And Kaldur..." She glanced toward her last companion and the steel in his gaze. "Kaldur will defend the innocent and fight until his next dying day."

"Which will not be for some time yet," Kaldur murmured.

"And you are humble as well. I should have listed that too." Diana kept her face straight even as she heard the little exhale that came with a smirk from Kaldur. Logan's expression hadn't changed, and he hadn't so much as blinked as he rubbed a hand over his knuckles slowly, then reached over to the desk and pressed the intercom button.

"Get me Banner and Thor." The intercom crackled back with something unintelligible, and he shrugged, glancing back at the trio. "That usually means yes."

"Great; I'm glad you have come to that conclusion," Diana said smoothly, nodding. "We will be taking a small plane, and we'll be in touch."

"Hold it!" Logan called, his voice unhurried, with an authoritative weight. It made Diana pause. His voice had power. His voice had the depths of the ocean on its side. "I didn't take you for the type to stoop that low to get what you want, Prince. I can say yes to your little mission without you diggin' so damn hard to find it. Just gotta wait for the rest of your team."

"This is my team. What rest?" Diana questioned him, but he said nothing until the door opened, revealing Thor and the boy she vaguely remembered from the previous Games by the name of Bruce.

Logan gave her a dry look and gestured to the two newcomers. "Thor and Bruce are goin' with you."

Diana had her gaze locked on Thor, who stood impressively taller than her and whose shaggy locks partially covered his shoulders and face. _Odinson._ She remembered her dismissive thoughts of Thor last year, all brawn, very little brain, and now she couldn't help but wonder whether the hair that covered said brain was of similar thickness to _her_ hair.

"Ah, Kaldur, my friend, I see your mission appeals have gone well," Thor boomed, pushing into the room. "Shall I get my hammer?"

"These two are coming?" Diana finally asked, shoved out of a stupor by Thor's voice. Though Thor had been with John when they had met up again, she hadn't been entirely satisfied with the idea he would be coming along. She tilted her head toward Bruce. "Or rather, this one is coming?"

"Wait, what?" It was Bruce that spoke up, still in the doorway, looking rather demure despite his stature. "Who's going where?"

"You're all gonna go get some kids out of a bad situation," Logan answered. As Bruce raised his hands up in protest, Logan seemed to ignore him as he continued to explain, even pulling out a few printouts of what they knew of the facility. "We found where Stark's bein' held, and Banner, you know what'll happen if those bastards get what they want from him."

"I understand your need to have a team made up of people from your Games, Logan, but this is a little out of Bruce's depth," Diana stated.

"No offense," John added, shooting a look at Banner.

"Take offense if you must; this is no mission that requires babysitting a team member," Diana said.

Banner looked around the group thoughtfully before he responded. "I'm not taking offense. I believe I have no business on a rescue mission. I'm with her on this one."

"Nonsense, Banner; we all saw the footage of you, taking on a great warrior's stance in the Games," Thor put in helpfully.

"That was when he was an irradiated imbecile, Thor," Diana countered. "This body is clean and physically useless."

Bruce blinked at her. "Okay, I'm a little offended by that. I mean, I can-"

"Hear me out, Prince," Logan said, holding up a hand. "Banner's goin''cause those Tahiti kids are in Two. I've been to Two and seen the kind of tech they have. You need someone who knows what they're doin' _and_ isn't gonna sit on their ass bein' a liability."

"Can't he deal with technology from afar, aboard the plane?" Diana asked. Logan's logic made sense to her, and she was not so unreasonable as to blindly disregard his decisions, but she had no desire to choose between rescuing lambs and rescuing teammates.

"Actually, no, probably not," Bruce explained, looking almost surprised that he was giving Logan ammunition. "A lot of Hydra's current way of evading us is by working offline and using old-school technology that requires a hands-on approach. I mean, I could probably explain to one of you–"

"That ain't the only reason, though," Logan interrupted, completely ignoring the two interjections, "Bruce is _more_ than capable of handling himself. Even if he doesn't like to admit it, he's a fighter. Not all predators show their teeth … or whatever."

"Whoa, _no_ , I'm not," Bruce said, turning away from Diana and looking at Logan. "I don't know what you're talking about, Logan. I'm not a fighter. I don't _want_ to be a fighter. Don't listen to him, Diana."

"So we are back to the beginning, where I must give up a team member to care for the tech," Diana said frostily, the sting from Logan's dig still smarting.

But Logan was smirking. "Take a look at him, Diana. Look at those muscles. Guy's built like a damn tank." Logan gestured to Bruce's arms. "An' he's just itchin' for a fight."

Banner rolled his eyes. "I work out, yes, to process the insanity around us," he explained with a wave of a hand. "Not to fight."

"Sure as hell wasn't what it seemed like last time we met up," Logan countered. "You enjoyed it, didn'tcha Brucie? A solid hit - first blood?" He turned toward Diana. "He knocked me out cold. Wasn't even really tryin', either."

"That was … due to unusual circumstances," Bruce said, his voice a little lower than before.

"You miss it, dontcha Banner? The fightin'."

" _No._ I do _not miss it."_

"Come on," Logan said, letting his voice drop to nearly a growl as he baited Bruce. "You forget what it felt like when you nailed me in the Games, too? The satisfaction of tossin' your opponent … the way my arm felt in your hands when you snapped it outta socket?" Logan slipped his flannel shirt off of his shoulder, revealing fresh wounds but no scars. "You can't see the scars now, but you liked the idea of rippin' me apart at the time. Every hit you took was damn near surgical, wasn't it? You knew _exactly_ how to tear me down."

Bruce stared at him. "I didn't want to fight you then, and I don't want to fight anyone now."

"Face it, Banner; you're a _force_. You loved the thrill of a fight, and you're too much of a coward to admit that usin' all your smarts to make someone hurt gave you power," Logan growled.

"I am not a _coward,"_ Bruce answered, his voice gravelly and tense. " _Stop taunting me."_ They all could see the tension in his body as his breathing became more uneven.

"Bruce." Diana kept her voice steady as he snapped his focus toward her.

Logan stepped around the desk and let his shoulders relax as he gestured first to Bruce's clenched fist and then to his other hand, which held the now broken doorknob. "In certain situations, Banner, it's the right move to fight. Bein' smart doesn't exclude you from usin' your body too. Hell. Made you the strongest guy out there."

"You should probably put the doorknob down somewhere no one will see it," John suggested. "Maybe in that plant pot over there."

"Very well, Logan, Son of Seven," Diana said, nodding in acquiescence. "We will all go."

"Your main priority is Tony Stark," Logan said. "If he's got anyone with him, don't leave 'em behind. We're still missin' a few."

"Our mission priority is _all_ the stolen Tahiti children," Kaldur growled. "And any other innocents they have taken in their mad quest for unholy power."

"And Stark is where you'll find 'em," Logan said. "Banner can fill you in on it later."

* * *

Logan had managed to outfit them with one of the fastest transports available. While Kaldur had initially grumbled about helicarriers being the slowest vessels in the fleet, Diana had pointed out that they had no idea just how many innocents they would be pulling from Two. It didn't matter how big the plane was anyway; it went just as invisible as the smaller ones.

Nonetheless, Diana was starting to feel the itch of impatience in the confined space, and she could sense the rest of her team was feeling the same way. It was different than being with the rest of the Final Four; everything had been up in the air, quite literally, and she had felt lost, without a single clear purpose. This time, it was different. Her hand reached over to touch her sword hilt absentmindedly. She wanted to use it again, for justice, for the job it was always supposed to do.

"Is that the one you had in the Games?" John asked, sliding over beside her. It wasn't entirely a question; Diana didn't think for one moment that her friend had forgotten what her sword looked like.

"Aye," she answered, moving her fingers over the top of the hilt like a caress. "It has been a useful companion. A little less useful than you, perhaps." She shot him a wry look.

"Still picked it over me, Di," he said, his hands resting comfortably in his combat fatigues. Diana felt her face stiffen, and John's hands shot out and up in front of him. "Aww, bloody hell, Di, I was only joking... Shit."

"It still has your blood dried in the crevices near the hilt," she stated after a moment. "I hope that knowledge makes you feel worse than you _think_ I feel." She saw a glint of relief in his eyes as he lowered his hands. "Honestly, John, you have not been dead that long. I think we are still capable of... bantering."

"It's... it's just banter, Di." The two fell silent, arms crossed, leaning against the wall of the helicarrier, their arms brushing comfortably against each other. They stood in the quiet until the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom that they were entering the drop-off zone.

"The time has come!" Thor called from the lower deck. Diana resisted rolling her eyes at the dramatic words. John was not so inclined, chuckling a little as they walked together to where the others were gathering. It was a slightly larger team than Diana was used to, though she was never one to turn her nose up at a challenge. Kaldur was completing a final check on the weaponry attached to his person. Thor was nodding to himself as he also surveyed the group. Bruce still looked ever so slightly green.

"According to Banner's intelligence–" Diana began.

"Bruce has found–" Thor said at the same time, then broke off and glanced over to Diana with a grin for a moment. Her heart tightened briefly as a confusing wave of emotions washed over her, carrying all sorts of driftwood that she was not ready to deal with. _This is not the time, Diana,_ she told herself firmly. _You have a job to do. You have lambs to save._ Her expression hardened a little as Thor kept his eyes on her. As she tilted her chin upward, prepared to fight for her position as she had tried with the Careers, Thor dipped his head, lifting the corners of his lips in a smile of acquiescence.

"There are three routes into the center. The main route is the most heavily guarded and essentially closed off to us." She gestured to Bruce, who nodded, pulling out a small tablet and fiddling with a few buttons. Within a couple of seconds, a ordnance map appeared in front of them, emitting a soft blue Tesseract-light. "We will be entering in the west corridor, under repair and in disuse; it will not be a great distance to where our targets lie. Bruce and John will aim for the control room. They will be our eyes when we are blind. Thor and Kaldur, your goal is the lost children. I will find Tony Stark myself."

"Shouldn't it be someone he is familiar with?" Bruce asked. There was a touch of his earlier tension in his voice.

"Diana likely thinks you will end up getting yourself and Tony killed with a touching reunion at an inopportune moment," Kaldur suggested dryly, shooting a look Diana's way. Diana's neck muscles stiffened.

"And Kaldur cannot go, as he is of the belief that if he does not rescue the innocent children Hydra means to experiment on, the job will not be done correctly." She watched his expression change to slightly affronted, then he sighed and shrugged his shoulders in silent agreement.

"Alright, but … if you're going for Tony, that'll be where the tech is thickest," Bruce said. "And we have a kind of understanding. Our own _code_ , if you will. He could tell me if he needs something done faster than someone else." He shook his head. "I think John can handle the control room." He looked a little off as he gave her a wan smile. "Guess you're still stuck with me."

As they moved to the helicarrier's drop point, movement from the cockpit level caught her eye, and she watched as a figure appeared and grabbed onto the railing, thrusting themselves over and landing in a balanced squat in the shadows.

"Nailed it," he breathed out, and Diana groaned aloud. She recognized that voice. "Don't worry, you lot: your damsel is not alone, and never shall be!" Wade continued to crow, straightening up from his drop and strutting over to the group.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her eyebrows arching so high she thought they might disappear beyond her hairline. "How did you even get on this vessel, Son of Wil?"

"I'm Logan's right hand man. You know this, I know this, Hydra knows this. Of course … Logan may not have gotten the memo yet - _but he will!_ When the going gets tough –," Here, Wade broke off, flipping his index finger up to his mouth and blowing imaginary smoke away. "– the tough call in Wade." Diana put her hand to her face, suppressing the urge to roll her eyes even as she heard Thor snort a little. "Besides, I'm here, and you needed a partner. None of this going solo crap – you're in Marvel, remember? We do team ups! Besides, I know a thing or two about breaking into things to break people out."

"There is some truth in that," Bruce pitched in.

"Brucie, my man, up top!" Wade said, grinning broadly as he waited for a high five … though Bruce just shook his head lightly and stood a little closer to Thor.

"He's not horrible - he did help get T'Challa out of Hydra." Bruce paused as John looked over at him in surprise. "I've gotten around a bit while you guys were trying to hitch to Twelve. I'm not _always_ stuck in a lab. Although lab workers _are_ a reliable source of gossip in a base."

"Very well," Diana said. Inwardly, she felt anything _but_ well, but there was no time to stand around and bicker. She knew that she would not succeed in the argument anyway; Wade was a good fighter, and he was certainly capable. That seemed to outweigh his capacity as a loose cannon in most people's minds.

"You don't want to argue?" Kaldur asked her in a low voice, his tone teetering toward incredulous... though the teasing smirk pulling at the corner of his eyes betrayed his amusement.

"I know in which battles I can attain victory, diver," she replied smoothly. "I am a leader, not an idiot." When Kaldur's smirk overtook his expression, she shook her head at him. "Try not to argue with me on that point. Now, let us depart before you forget yourself."

She twiddled with the little device in her ear, not reassured by technology when it gave a high pitched shriek by her eardrum. Her wince was mirrored in her teammates' features, though the noise faded almost immediately.

"Growing pains," Bruce explained unapologetically. "I'm a scientist. Not tech support. Tech support will be on the other end of this mission, though." The hatch door groaned quietly as it moved downward, while the helicarrier remained hovering above the ground. A blast of warm air hit them as they waited for the ground to appear. Diana's throat tightened; she kept expecting a mass of Hydra agents ready to swarm them.

She was almost disappointed as they leaped the last few feet to the ground. The crumbling entryway was devoid of life... She paused that thought as Wade let a throwing knife fly, the weapon embedding itself into a guard with a pulpy sound. The man dropped like a speared fish, crumpling against the doorway. _Now it is devoid of life,_ she thought, casting a look toward Wade as they skulked forward.

Entering the long corridor, Diana raised her hand to eye level, gesturing to John to break off silently. John seemed to meld into the walls immediately as they separated. The rest resumed their wall sliding, feet quick and quiet. A small sound ahead of them caused her to raise a fist, and it made her smile inwardly as the light shuffle ceased almost straight away. _A team that already trusts. How strange._

Thor took a giant step forward as the shadows of their approaching enemies grew strong, his hammer swinging upward. He caught one soldier square in the jaw, surely shattering it beyond repair. As the next Hydra agent raised his gun, Kaldur was right beside him, thrusting his sword straight and true.

"You have changed who you hate," Diana observed as Kaldur withdrew his sword, the man gasping as he collapsed.

"I have changed nothing," Kaldur said. "I have always hated those who betray innocence. I simply choose to fight the worst offenders." He paused and smiled her way. "But if you wish to think me blind, I will admit: I am nearly as blind as you. My blind eye toward SHIELD is necessary to keep from fighting on too many fronts."

"Kaldur, my friend, you shouldn't insult our leader," Thor put in, his smile preventing his words from having a semblance of seriousness.

"It wasn't insulting," Diana replied. "It was merely the truth. You two, find our allies. Be quick, be quiet." The group split, and Diana led Wade and Bruce with a surefootedness she wasn't entirely confident about. She had examined the map on the helicarrier, knew the basis of their journey, and was confident in their intelligence of where they were keeping Tony Stark. But she was not foolish enough to think that Hydra was so different from the Gamemakers that they would not have surprises waiting for her team.

"You know, Di, I really think you should just relax a little bit," Wade whispered as they turned around what Diana thought was the second-last corner. "I'd be more than happy to give you a lil' massage …"

"I am relaxed," she growled quietly back at him, her hand on the lasso. She couldn't help wondering what it would look like around Wade.

"Hate to see you tense, sweetheart, that's all." He held his hands up - palms out - at shoulder level.

"I am concerned," she said, gritting her teeth. She rolled her eyes as she turned to her other companion. "Bruce, why is it so quiet?"

"Well, we did come at dinnertime," Wade said so the words overlaid themselves.

"Be quiet, Son of Wil, lest someone silence you," Diana grumbled, pausing at the last turn.

"Actually, Diana, he might be right," Bruce said as he checked his tablet.

"Yeah, Brucie, my man, high five!"

Bruce flatly ignored him as he turned to show Diana the tablet's readouts. "There's only a handful of satellite sentinels on the corridors. Everyone else seems to be in the mess or over in the large lab." He looked down both directions in the hallway, double checked the map, and pointed the right way.

"Will our fine leader show what is behind door number one?" Wade stage whispered as they reached their destination. She held up a finger, resting it on his lips, and tilted her head to the door. There was a small murmuring of voices.

"John?" she asked softly over the comms.

"Stark and two others. I've cut all the wires in their alarm systems, so in theory, you'll get them all and get out without anyone noticing."

"Let's kick some ass," Wade said, crossing his heart in an 'X'.

"Let us make them kneel," she said in agreement.

"Ooo, good callback." Wade nodded in approval as he kicked the door, the wood splintering as the lock broke. There was a brief moment of surprise from everyone in the room: a familiar blonde, Tony Stark, and an unfamiliar third man.

"Wade?" Stark asked.

"Princey?" Harley giggled.

"Harleen?" Diana stared.

"Margaret?" Wade tilted his head. Diana turned to the last standing man, who held up his hands.

"Wait!" Tony exclaimed. "He's with us." Bruce let out a sigh of relief as he rushed into the room and wrapped Tony up in a quick hug.

"Never thought I'd be so happy to see you," Bruce said, though Tony was already moving to other things.

"Me too, big guy. Now, come on; let's get this finished before we go," Tony said, redirecting him.

"Diana." John's voice crackled the earbud to life. "Remember how I said the alarms are disarmed? I was wrong. There's a redundant system. You need to get out of there. Kaldur, Thor, you too."

"There is time." It was Kaldur's voice on the comms. "We haven't got them all. There are children here they mean to use as sacrifices to their cruel science."

"You'll have none if you don't leave _now_."

"That is our rescue," Diana said. "Come." She made to move, then paused as Tony made no move to get away from his chair and computer.

"I can't go yet," Tony stated.

"That is a bald-face lie, Mistah S, and you know it," Harley retorted. Tony rolled his eyes.

"Okay, sure. I can do this–" He broke off, walking on a very deliberate path to the microscope. "And this–" He moved to the welding box. "Oh, oh, and would you believe it, I can also do this–" Tony skipped back to his original position.

"Those bozos behind the camera like to make sure we're walkin' and talkin' the way they want us ta," Harley continued. "No sense of humor at _all_."

"That was before," Diana said smoothly. "Now we have the control room. We have triggered an alarm, and if you are still here when the soldiers arrive…" Beside her, Wade pulled his finger across his throat; Tony and Harley's friend had the decency to gulp.

"Well why didn'tcha say so before?" Harley asked, skipping over to Diana and leaning into her ear as she whispered conspiratorially, "Who's your new toy boy?"

"That is Wade, Son of Wil." Wade was wiping the blood in the clothes of one of the soldiers.

"He some kinda hero under that mask?"

"Mhmm... some 'kinda' anyway. Who is your new friend?"

"That's Fitz. Ain't he a doll?" Harley cracked her joints as they straightened out and let out a big sigh before she baby-walked over to what looked like a broken computer. She climbed up onto the desk and pulled herself up to the ceiling tiles, moving them aside to come out with some sort of device holding a sickly greenish liquid. "Hey baby, time to play," she said, caressing her device.

"We must leave. Now."

Now was not in the immediate future, though; noise at the door made them all look up at the three Hydra soldiers standing at the exit, weapons ready. They hadn't shot yet, no doubt trying to preserve their captive scientist's life.

Diana's lasso snapped into action, swinging in a tight arc and launching its free end at the nearest soldier. The rope wrapped around the woman's wrist, and Diana pulled, the snap-back yanking the woman's arm backward and away from her gun. She screamed as Diana flicked the rope, loosening it from the now dislocated wrist and swinging it again. The rope hit the ceiling light, cracking the bulb and sending fragments cascading onto the Hydra soldier.

She brought the rope back, snapping it forward again, this time twisting it so it wrapped itself on the soldier's neck. She pulled sharply, feeling the weave tighten, and the woman gasped, falling forward, her hands unable to break the fall, distracted by attempting to remove the rope. She hit the ground with a thump and lay still.

As Diana loosened off the lasso to recoil it, she heard someone unfamiliar shout her name. She barely had time to look up before the butt of the second soldier's gun hit her on the side of the face, sending her staggering away from where Wade was distracted by the third. _At least this man is intelligent enough to avoid his weapon in such close quarters._ He still had the back of his gun, though, and Diana saw a long knife sheathed on his belt.

She could feel the trickle of blood along her brow and wrinkled her eye as it dripped onto her lid. The momentary lapse in vision was all the soldier needed, and he launched himself forward, unsheathing his knife in one smooth movement. Diana barely had time to swing her sword up, still attached to her belt, using it as a block to his arching motion. As he brought the blade back, she sent a swift kick to his groin area, satisfied as the blood drained from his face.

"Yeah, fight dirty. Give 'em what for!" Harley called before she bounced over to help, her makeshift weapon still clutched tightly to her chest; Wade obliged her words, and his knife slashed across his combatant's throat and sent a stream of scarlet across the lab walls. Diana was not so inclined, stepping forward and giving her opponent another incapacitating kick, this time in the nose. There was a crunch, and then the man sank backward.

"You see, Di? I listen to orders," Wade said, making his way over.

"There will be more. We must go."

"Let 'em come," Harley said. "I been cookin' this up for 'em for a long time - an' they _won't_ like it when they get a facefull of it."

"Thanks, Harl. Keep 'em busy; we have to do just a couple of things," Tony said, racing over to the counter and pulling pieces of paper up, stuffing them inside his shirt as he started jabbering quickly with Bruce, who was working just as swiftly as Tony to destroy things around them.

"There is no time," Diana said sharply.

"There's always time to save my work," Tony responded, raising an eyebrow at her and then resuming his paper stealing.

"Cutting it kinda close, Tony," Bruce agreed, even as he moved faster, shifting to simply start smashing things.

"Remember, Tony Stark: you are no longer wearing a metal suit," Diana stated, marching over to him.

"Yeah, not sure you saw, but that didn't work out so great for me last time," Tony said just before Diana squatted and grabbed him at the thighs, tossing him up on her shoulder. She turned and strode out of the lab.

"Hey, doll, why don'tcha light it up and blow this joint?" Wade said to Harley, whipping out a zippo from a previously unknown pocket. "I always come prepared. I love a good arson." Harley snatched it from his hand with a broad grin and knocked over half of the chemicals on the lab table, causing an odd green-gray smoke to rise from the mixture.

"Boom," she said with a little cackle, pouring a trail of liquid from the bench to the center of the lab before she lit the chemical up, thus lighting the lab up. A plume of flames went up from the chemical soaked bench.

"Come, you two," Diana called. "This is not the time for flame watching." _We are dawdling, just as I expected our teammates to do._

"I'm wit' the Wonder Woman," Harley called, grabbing Fitz by the arm and pulling him away from the flames. "We don't wanna get between Hydra and the present I rigged up for 'em." Fitz murmured in agreement, maintaining a cool outlook as the group behind her matched pace.

"You can put me down, you know, I have legs," Tony said over Diana's shoulder as she took off at a brisk jog back the way they had come. There wasn't a need for skulking now. The soldier's scream had assured that.

"You will not do anything foolish, like run away?" she huffed out. Tony was heavy to carry at a run. She was secretly grateful he was offering to help himself. The area the soldier had hit her was aching, and starting to swell, giving uncomfortable puffiness to her eye.

"Well, we burned what Bruce didn't smash, and if they put the fire out, Harley's gas canister will go off, which we really don't want to be around for. May as well follow you. I'm presuming you're with SHIELD?" Tony paused as Diana set him on the ground, only half-attempting gentleness. "Huh. Probably should've asked that before I allowed myself to get picked up." He pointed a finger her way as they moved forward. "Don't go telling your girlfriends I'm that easy to pick up, now. This was special circumstances. One night only."

"Yes. But this is not a time for questions. The helicarrier will be a time for that. Here –" Diana broke off, unbuckling her sword from her side without breaking stride. She handed it over to Tony. "Do not lose this and do not stab yourself or my team with it. Understood?" She gave him a side eye that was a warning of the grave consequences that would befall Tony should either of those things happen.

"Yeah, pretty sure I'd have to go out of my way to stab myself with a sword, thanks."

They almost made it to the control room when they heard voices and the occasional Hydra guard. Diana ceased her brisk pace and returned to the quiet footfalls, lifting her arm to signal for the others to do the same. There was a chance the voices were the men she'd left behind, but she was not about to gamble her life away.

Wade and Harley had the foresight to stop at her hand motion, while Tony nearly tripped over her feet at the sudden change in speed. Wade tried to pass a knife to Harley, who shook her head and held up her homemade weapon, leaving Wade to hand the knife to Fitz instead, miming how to stab someone with a slow nod that had Harley covering her mouth to stifle the giggle. They walked forward as one unit, edging up to the corner.

There was a sudden commotion up ahead and a loud crash, followed by equally loud, "Bloody hell!"

" _Heeeeeeeeeeere's Johnny!_ " Wade shouted, leaping ahead of Diana and around the corner.

"To Hades with you, Wade," Diana grumbled, then sprang after him, her lasso in hand. It was immediately clear John had been dealing with the company for a time, and she couldn't help give a little internal nod of appreciation to the fallen Hydra soldiers in the corridor. Wade had already dispatched the man that she presumed was the cause of John's exclamation.

Harley let out a little squeal behind Diana, launching herself over a downed soldier and tackling another. The surprised soldier let out a little ' _oomph'_ at the onset of the attack, and then another, more pained sound that preceded maniacal laughter as Harley sat back with her weapon dripping green liquid. It was evident that she'd sprayed the guy right up his nose.

"He is _not_ gonna like the next stage or two of this," Harley said as the Hydra soldier's laughter got more wild and uncontrolled, leading into his limbs contorting at strange angles.

"Oooh! I didn't think it'd do _that too!_ Man, I sure wish that—" Harley paused, glancing over at Wade, who was enjoying dancing around the rapid, haphazard motions John was making with his improvised weapon as they tag-teamed an agent. "Nah, I don't wish that."

As a soldier made a rush for Tony, Bruce stepped in the way, nailing him with a solid right hook that echoed a crack in the hall, knocking him flat. Bruce's chest was heaving as he turned to do the same to the next Hydra soldier pushing in to the group, wandering from the protection of the pack as he simply tried to clear a path on his own.

Diana flicked her lasso toward a soldier who had risen up from the ground and was heading toward the control room. It caught him around the neck, and she yanked back hard, bracing her wrists at the waist. The man's body whipped back quickly, landing on the ground with a sickening crunch, and the momentary worry of whether or not he was injured or dead quickly passed as more Hydra agents made their way down the corridor.

"Worst rescue effort ever," Tony grumbled, drawing her sword.

"I think it's pretty F-A-N-tastic," Harley countered. "You just don't appreciate a good rescue."

"We need to go," Diana ordered, cracking her lasso forward. It missed one of the soldier's hands at the front of the squad, wrapping around her gun instead and pulling it from her grasp. The soldier beside her lifted his weapon, firing the rounds quickly. Most of the bullets went wide, but there were no shields around, and ducking only prevented so much. Diana felt the sharp twinge of a high velocity round as a bullet sliced across her upper arm, grazing the surface and sending a splash of scarlet out. "We need to go _now_!"

"We can't!" John called from behind a human shield. "Kaldur and Thor aren't back yet!" Beside him, Wade threw a sword, the blade dead straight and managing to catch at least two of their enemies. Fitz tossed his knife into the soiree, the blade also hitting home.

From the ground, Diana flung the lasso forward, successfully catching someone's leg. She heard the screech of pain as she tightened at the knee joint, pulling hard in a counter direction and partially dislocating the knee.

There were sounds of running behind them, and Diana felt her heart accelerate. _I did not make it through the Games to die in such a place as this,_ she thought. _I have business to attend to. This is not the time._ She brought her lasso back to position, twisting around from the way they had come, her hands taut and ready to hit the first soldier attempting to corner them.

"For Four!" she called, letting the lasso fly as the footsteps reached the corner. The rope's course was true as it sailed forward and wrapped around the torso of Kaldur, his face betraying his surprise as he found himself caught. Diana realized her mistake before she tightened too much, and she let the rope run slack.

"For freedom," Kaldur answered as the rope fell to the ground and Diana picked it back up. "We must leave _now_."

"Retreat!" Diana yelled, staying in her half crawling position but moving forward, whipping the lasso around to catch more unsuspecting legs. The footsteps behind Kaldur were far more numerous than Diana had dared to hope for, but she didn't expect any of the rescued children to be capable, or willing, to fight. She tapped the earbud and repeated her call so Bruce could know, then proceeded forward.

Tony had abandoned the sword back in its sheath and had picked up a fallen soldier's gun. He looked at it for a couple of seconds, then raised it up and fired some brisk rounds without aiming. The effect was the desired one, allowing Wade and Harley time to pick up their weapons as they headed back to the west gate, though Harley rushed down the wrong way to throw her vial of liquid as more soldiers rushed to fill that hall — coughing violently at the odor of her chemical bomb just before the laughter started.

Bruce arrived just as the alarms started wailing around them. He was panting heavily, and his shirt had blood of questionable ownership on it.

"Sorry," he said, his teeth gritted. "I got a little carried away.."

"More soldiers!" Thor called from the back of the group. "Run!"

They ran.

Diana burst out of the exit doors, her heart hammering, fully expecting the helicarrier not to be present and their rescue attempt to be for naught. Her spirit soared as the cargo hold opened, revealing the location of the otherwise invisible transporter.

"Move, move!"

She stood at the ramp as the rescued children pounded up the metal grate. She couldn't help but notice the way the children followed Thor... or the gentleness with which Kaldur urged the youngest of the group forward. For just a moment, she could see the grace of Queen Mera in his eyes.

And then he looked up to meet her gaze, and Diana schooled her expression to a short nod that he returned before he went back to his work.

John was first up to the top, pausing to grab three ICERs and turning back. He tossed one to Diana and one to Fitz, then started to fire on the oncoming Hydra soldiers. Diana did the same, after a few failed attempts at figuring out the mechanism. Kaldur was at the back of the group of rescued children, and he paused for just a moment by Diana's side.

"Thank you, Diana."

She waved him off with her hand, and he shook his head, whatever else he might have said dying on his lips. She didn't see the strange expression he held as he headed up the ramp with Fitz while the SHIELD operative gave them both cover.

Diana, Wade and Harley jumped on to the ramp as it started to rise, hearing the ' _pop'_ as bullets ricocheted off the bottom. Wade glanced over to Diana as District Two's population seemed to become ant-like in size as they gained altitude.

"You're bleeding," he observed. Diana cast him a side eye.

"So are you," she noted. "Shot?" He nodded. "Aye, me as well."

"You know what that means? We're blood brothers! Partners forever!"

It occurred to Diana that the ramp was still open and could still fit a Wade-sized package out. She allowed herself a little smile as the ramp closed, with Wade still on board. She was starting to like her teammates. _All of them._


	15. Chapter 15: Warrior Princess

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! Have an update! This time, we're gonna check in on the Teen Titans :)**

 **Thank you to all the writers who reviewed both this and other chapters (loving the marathons!) and thanks as always to Slim Summers2002 for being such a big supporter of ours!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifteen — Warrior Princess**

 **District Twelve SHIELD Base**

 **Kory Anders of District Twelve**

 **Written by Unlucky Alis**

* * *

" _I don't usually lose my temper, but if I get angry, it's true - I'm scary" - Eva Mendes_

* * *

Kory was a physical person. She had no problems expressing herself with her words, but she was more of a 'show, don't tell' kind of woman.

When she was happy, she hugged people, grabbed their hands, leaned in so close they could feel the joy oozing off her. She had to hold herself back from outright tackling Raven the first time she saw her friend alive and well. It was Raven's own aversion to such intense contact that saved her from the experience. Gar, just as willing as Kory was to invade someone's personal space, wasn't as lucky. She spent the better part of ten minutes apologizing profusely when she believed she bruised him with the fierceness of her hug.

When Kory was mad, she wanted to hit things. _Wanted_ being the operative term. Her Okaraan teachers didn't condone fighting fuelled by negative emotions, but she was prone to her slip-ups whenever she got angry enough. Righteous indignation was a much better fuel for her fire. But that also meant that whenever she was feeling particularly virtuous, she still wanted to hit things. But for a better reason.

And when she was with Dick, she needed to touch him. There were the moments of passion, the ones just between two of them — whether they were actually alone or not was a minor stipulation — when her heart raced, and she found herself breathless from his kisses. But it was about more than the fervor. It was the closeness. In the arena, there had been moments like that, when she and Dick sat side-by-side, when they were just _together_. Back in that place, there were desperate moments spent soaking each other in, clinging to what little time they had left.

It was different now.

Kory and Dick's reunion had been nothing short of an attack of intimacy, with plenty of similar instances in the days since, including this one. After leaving the training room, they wandered, pretending they weren't slowly making their way to Dick's room. They only made it halfway there before Kory felt the urge to drag him into a smaller, empty hallway, and acted on her instincts immediately.

Dick's arms were wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, while Kory's were draped over his shoulders, wrists crossing at the base of his neck. They had been kissing mere seconds ago, and now they were just... lingering.

Kory felt a little guilty indulging herself like this when there was a war going on. Especially when, that very morning, Dick was fretting over how soon he could get involved. She understood; she wanted to be out there too. The urge to fight thrummed beneath her skin, but she wouldn't go without Dick at her side.

She would just have to find something else to do until then. She was reminded of Steve's suggestion. Teaching the younger kids could prove to be a fruitful way to help until she hit the battlefield, especially since she wasn't allowed to take care of a certain other thing in the base.

Kory frowned, her fists clenching. She hadn't gone to see Ivy again. She didn't like what being around that woman did to her. Even if Dick was okay now, Kory would never forget what Ivy did. She would never let her get away with it, no matter how 'redeemable' SHIELD thought she might be.

"What are you thinking about?" Dick asked softly, and Kory realized neither of them had said anything for at least two minutes.

She considered answering with a teasing quip and a suggestive smile, but the expression on Dick's face made her pause. It was a knowing look, full of raised eyebrows and the hint of a frown.

"Teaching the others," Kory said after a moment. "I think we should accept."

Dick smiled. "We?"

"Of course. I am sure I could do it on my own, but it is just more fun when I'm with you." Kory smiled back, rising up so she could whisper into his ear. "Unless I would be too much of a distraction for you."

She giggled at the way he flushed. It was very endearing — and fantastic to know she could still make him nervous, even with less suggestive words.

"I think you've got it wrong," Dick countered. "How could you teach them to fight if I'm there to distract _you_?"

"We will have to wait and see, will we not?" Kory leaned in for another kiss when someone rushed by their little hallway. Normally, she wouldn't have paid them any attention — someone was always rushing about in SHIELD — but their words made her freeze.

"We don't know how far Isely got."

Kory gasped, twisting away from Dick, and bolted around the corner. Two people were walking briskly down the hallway, one in a white coat, the other in more generic SHIELD gear. It took her a moment to recognize Dr. Thompkins. She hadn't spoken to the doctor much, but from what Kory could gather, it was mandatory for the tributes to see her at least once.

"Dr. Thompkins!" Kory shouted.

The doctor slowed, glancing over her shoulder, and when she stopped, the SHIELD soldier did too. Kory didn't know who he was — definitely not a tribute. There were so many operatives it was easy for the less… distinctive people to fall into the background.

"What's happened with Ivy?" Kory asked when she caught up.

"She escaped," the soldier answered, the same moment Dr. Thompkins said, "That isn't something you need to worry about."

Dr. Thompkins shot the man an admonishing glare, then focused on Kory. "You need to trust that Director Logan will have this taken care of. Isely isn't your concern."

"She is as long as she breathes," Kory snapped. She turned away and jogged down the hall, ignoring Dr. Thompkins shouting after her.

"What's going on?" Dick asked when he fell into step beside her, sparing the doctor a glance as they rounded a corner and she disappeared from sight.

"Ivy has escaped custody," she explained between clenched teeth. Bruce should have let Kory take care of her before they even left the arena. If not Kory, than someone else, _anyone else_ , once they got to SHIELD. It didn't matter who, as long as it meant Ivy was no longer a threat.

But Kory preferred to be the one to do it.

"Where are we going?"

"After her."

"Kory, wait!" Dick's hand found her wrist, and he pulled her to a stop.

"She's getting away!" Kory snapped, then reared back when she realized what she had done. She was _glaring_ at _Dick_. Panting, nails digging into her palms; she was angry. She hadn't been angry like this around Dick before, and she didn't want to be. It was ugly, filling her up, stopping her from thinking straight, and it was Ivy's fault. It felt like all Kory's control went out the window whenever Ivy was involved. Being around her, thinking about her, knowing she was out there while Kory was in here. She wasn't able to rein in her temper like she was used to, and it felt strange. Uncomfortable.

"What are you doing?" Dick asked.

"Going after Ivy," Kory repeated.

Dick grabbed her other wrist and trailed his thumbs across her knuckles. "How will you find her?"

Kory took a breath, her answer ready on her tongue... and then hesitated. SHIELD probably had cameras everywhere, both inside the base and out of it. But for how far? And how long ago did Ivy escape? If Dr. Thompkins hadn't spoken at that exact moment, Kory probably wouldn't even know Ivy was gone. Not to mention — she had never trained for tracking people down. Kory knew that she would find Ivy eventually; she would never give up the pursuit. But how long would it take?

Her fists loosened, and Dick slipped his fingers between hers, pulling her closer.

"Weren't you the one just saying rest was important?" he asked.

 _For you,_ Kory thought, but that was an excellent point. If she went out now, would — _could_ — Dick come with her? He wasn't cleared for mission, and he had made tremendous leaps in adjusting to his body, but he wasn't back to the way he was.

She wasn't doubting Dick. It was just that he _died_ , and a few days wasn't enough to recover from that.

"I believe it was always implied that my stamina has not faltered," Kory quipped, feeling her anger subside. "Couldn't you tell?"

"I'm going to be totally honest," Dick said in a serious tone, voice lowered. "I absolutely could."

He pressed a soft kiss to the corner of her lips. "And you know—" He kissed her again. "—that no one loves seeing you kick butt as much as I do. But who would teach those defenseless kids if you left?"

"I do not think Raven would enjoy hearing you say that," Kory said, smiling.

"Who said I was talking about Raven? If she finds out, that's on you," Dick teased.

Kory felt the last of her anger bleed away. It wasn't completely gone; she fully intended on tracking Ivy — and a certain sister of hers — down eventually so they could get what was coming to them. But the anger was pushed to the back of her mind where did not have to think about it.

It was amazing how quickly Dick could bring her back down. Some teasing words, a few gentle touches, and she felt like herself again.

That was why being with Dick was its own emotion. It wasn't as simple as loving him or being loved back. In the grand scheme of things, they hadn't even known each other very long. But she had changed since she met him. She didn't become a new person; it was more like she was returning to who she was before Kammie got into her head. And that was a long time ago.

"There is something here that must be fixed," Kory said, taking a step back and smirking at how disappointed Dick looked for it.

"Are you sure? It feels pretty perfect right now."

Kory's grin widened, and she took another step back, letting one of Dick's hands go. "It would seem we are in need of something to do, and _you_ like to see me 'kick butt', as you say it."

Comprehension dawned on Dick's face, and he grinned back. "Where to?"

Kory squeezed Dick's hand and said, "Your mentor."

* * *

It took them longer than Kory thought it would to track Logan down. They checked the director's office first — the obvious place — but he wasn't there. A helpful SHIELD operative mentioned Logan sending a handful former-tributes on a mission to Four, and they checked the hangar next. There were always people in there, but Logan wasn't one of them. It seemed that the new director was constantly trying to keep moving.

It wasn't until Kory and Dick looped back around toward the training rooms that they found him, with Gar, in one of the empty rooms. Logan's gaze flicked toward them when they appeared in the doorway, but quickly went back to Gar.

"So what was so important you had to interrupt me here, kid?" Logan asked, slowly re-wrapping his hands. It appeared as if Gar had stepped in on one of Logan's training sessions. Beyond Logan and Gar stood Agent May — who was watching Kory and Dick with a muted frown.

Gar shuffled his feet and asked, "Is it true?"

For a moment, Kory thought he was asking about Ivy. It was the only big news she had heard all day. But Gar didn't have a reason to be nervous about that, which meant this was something new. There was so much more going on in SHIELD than what any one person may know, except a select few. The director being one of them.

There was a subtle shift in Logan when Gar spoke. He didn't move, but Kory could see his jaw tighten slightly, and the look in his eyes changed. She wouldn't go so far as to describe it as soft — she couldn't imagine ever using that word to describe Logan — but more like a sad understanding.

"Is Hydra in Ten?" Gar continued.

Logan watched Gar for a moment, taking in the nervous tremble of his hands as he rubbed at his own knuckles. They were talking about his district, his home. If it were Logan, he wouldn't let anyone lie to him and get away with it.

"You got good ears. We've confirmed a few reports of Hydra's efforts to slip in while Ten's lookin' the other way," he said.

Gar swayed, his shoulders trembling, and Kory rushed forward with Dick just a step behind. She wrapped an arm around Gar's shoulders as Logan continued speaking.

"But Ten isn't unique, Gar. Just about everyone's gettin' attacked right now. It's a _war._ We're takin' care of it. We're not lettin' Hydra win."

Kory's gaze narrowed. She liked Logan; it was just unfortunate he had to say almost the same thing Dr. Thompkins did.

"You are taking care of many things. Let us go," Kory said.

"We could use the exercise," Dick added with a cheeky grin, stretching his arms over his head.

Logan smirked. "From what I hear, you got plenty this morning in the room next door."

"Steve told them about the betting pool," Gar added, smiling despite himself.

Kory almost forgot about that, and she wasn't sure what to think about it. She didn't care there was a betting pool about her and Dick — they were open enough about their affection. It was more the topic of the bet that she minded. Dick had nicely summed up both their shock with his stammering, and even now, she wasn't sure how to respond.

"That isn't really important right now," Dick said, bringing focus back to the matter at hand. "Come on, _Director_ Logan, let us go to Ten."

"You get cleared yet, _Doctor_ Damnit?" Logan asked.

Dick's hesitation was all the answer he needed.

Kory braced herself for the 'no', already trying to figure out their chances of heading off to District Ten on their own. Unlikely, but the idea of success interested her. She hadn't done any rule breaking since before the Games, and that was just to touch the fence surrounding Twelve.

Logan whipped a rolled-up hand wrap at Dick, who caught it without looking at it — and looked almost surprised that he'd managed it. No one was testing him on that kind of training yet. "Not bad," Logan said, almost nodding to himself. He looked over his shoulder, not focused on anything as he weighed it out. "You'd have to keep it small and quiet…" His tone was soft, and it was clear that he was thinking it over seriously as he flexed his hands.

"Logan," May called out quietly, which had Logan turning toward her for a moment. She raised one eyebrow, and Logan smirked in response.

"Can't afford for you three to get caught," Logan said, though he was holding May's gaze — and she didn't look amused at all on hearing it.

"Three?" Gar asked, perking up beneath Kory's arm.

"You weren't gonna ask?" Logan quirked an eyebrow as he held Gar's gaze.

"No, I was!" Gar shook his head and waved his hands. "It's my district, I want to defend it."

"Alright. I'll set it up, but you're not goin' in alone. You'll have to take some special ops soldiers with you. Don't do anything stupid." Logan fixed all three of them with a stern look. Gar's nod was reassuring, but Dick's cheeky grin left some confidence to be desired.

Kory wrapped her other arm around Dick in a brief half hug, kissing his cheek, then tugged Gar with her towards the door.

"There is no need to worry," she said, tossing the parting comment over her shoulder. "I will keep my hands off Dick in the field."

Dick's grin faltered, and he spun around, sprinting into the hall.

"Wait! Did you just call me stupid?"

"Doesn't sound like me, Damnit," Logan called back as he went back to the fierce sparring session with Agent May that Gar had interrupted.

* * *

'Some' soldiers turned out to be a full transport, much more than Kory was expecting. Logan passed along what intel SHIELD had on the invasion as everyone was gearing up. As it turned out, not much was known beyond Hydra agents being spotted in Ten. They needed to be cautious.

Seeing Gar outfitted with a gun saddened Kory a little. They were using the same ICERs Kory, Diana, and Helena had used right after the Games, so she knew they weren't lethal, but he was so young for a gun. Then again, he was young for the Games, and that didn't stop him from being chosen.

Kory watched him on the flight over. He talked animatedly of District Ten, his nerves showing through his babble. He prattled on to Dick, Kory, the soldiers. If they weren't strapped in, he probably would have joined Agent May in the cockpit as well. At the moment, he was sharing a story about Jill, one of the dairy cows. He spoke animatedly, waving his arms and grinning.

Seeing his smile put Kory at ease. It was reassuring to know the Games hadn't changed him.

"Hey."

Kory dragged her focus away from Gar, her gaze snapping to Dick as he retook his seat.

"Agent May says we're landing soon," he said. "We're landing in one of the fields outside the city."

"Are you ready?" Kory asked.

Dick rolled his shoulders, adjusting his bulletproof vest, and nodded. "It feels good to be doing something."

"I agree," Kory said, glancing at Gar again. The soldiers were listening politely to his story, a couple of them laughing along with him.

"Okay," Dick said. He braced his shoulders and scooted forward in his seat, turning to face everyone and raising his voice. "We're touching down in a couple minutes. We don't know how many Hydra agents there will be, so we need to work fast. Take as many of them by surprise as possible."

The soldiers nodded, Gar hugged his ICER to his chest, and Kory gave Dick a reassuring smile. They had made a plan of action before leaving the base, with plenty of input from the soldiers. A few ideas were tossed around: drop right into the city and go for a direct attack, pair up and spread out to cover more ground, divide into four-person teams and take the district section by section.

In the end, they settled on a sweep through the district. They would spread out, but move as a group. It wouldn't be good to split up with what little information they had.

The transport shuddered as they reached their destination, and everyone rose from their seats. They were out the backdoor as soon as it opened, not even waiting for the transport to land as they dashed across the field. Gar's focus lingered on the trampled grass, a sharp pang of sadness shooting through him before he shook his head and focused on the buildings ahead.

Kory, Dick, and Gar overtook the soldiers and, as the only one in their little trio who didn't have a new body to contend with, Kory took the lead.

When they hit the main town, it was quieter than she expected. She thought it would be like the Capitol, with soldiers and civilians everywhere. They slowed their pace, working their way around the closest buildings and finding nothing.

Kory and Dick shared a frown. Logan's parting words made them both think it would be dangerous — not that fighting wasn't normally dangerous — but this was underwhelming.

"Did you hear that?" Gar asked, interrupting the moment.

Kory shook her head. "No, what?"

Gar held a finger to his lips, and they fell silent. After a moment, the sound of gunfire punctured the air.

"It's coming from the northeast," one of the soldiers said, nodding that way, and they set off. The gunfire became more frequent the closer they got and was joined by panicked shouts.

Kory kept a tight grip on her gun, her gaze darting around the street as she sought out enemy soldiers. When one dashed out between two buildings, she was ready. Planting her feet and whipping up her ICER, she fired. Her shot hit the Hydra soldier's arm a split second after another struck the man in the neck.

She looked back to see who else had fired. The soldier who gave them the direction of the gunfire. He nodded at Kory, and she smiled back. Guns still weren't her forte, but at least the soldiers were good shots.

They were a block down from the noise when they stopped.

"I'll go ahead and look," Kory offered.

"Be careful," Dick said, and she squeezed his hand to reassure him.

She jogged down the street, trusting the others to have her back, and slowed down when she reached the corner. Taking a breath to prepare herself, she inched forward and peeked around the building.

Civilians in the street. Some shouting, some crying. Children clinging to their parents, siblings, or just whoever was closest. Hydra soldiers stood around them, some emerging from the nearby buildings, dragging more people with them. There were a few people splayed out on the pavement, unmoving.

Kory made a quick estimate of the enemy numbers. There were at least twice as many Hydra soldiers as they had SHIELD agents. Retreating, she headed down a side alley to view the scene from another angle. Trying to remain cautious, she slowly worked her way around. It seemed like the Hydra soldiers were working within a confined area, for now. She stayed just long enough to be confident in her assessment, then started back toward the others to relay the information.

There was one spot on Kory's way back where she would have to dart out into the open, if only for a brief moment. Double checking to make sure the way was clear, she sprinted across the narrow street, keeping her head down, and only paused to breathe once she was safe on the other side.

She paused when she heard a soft crunch, the sound of gravel being ground into asphalt, and spun around. The green-clad soldier lunged for her, his gun raised to knock her out.

Kory ducked, sweeping out her leg and catching his ankle. There wasn't enough force behind the hit to make him fall, but the soldier stumbled, giving her just enough time to leap back and raise the ICER as he did the same.

She fired, the dendrotoxin cartridge slamming into the soldier's chest. He jerked in surprise, his aim going wide as he pulled the trigger. A stinging pain lanced down Kory's thigh. The soldier dropped, and Kory glanced at her leg.

The shot had grazed her. Not deeply, but enough that she could feel it, and she winced with every step the rest of the way back.

Dick immediately noticed her injury when she got back to the group and rushed to meet her.

"What happened? Are you okay?" he asked.

"I am alright," Kory insisted. "One of them just tried to sneak up on me. But we need to act fast."

She quickly relayed what she had seen.

"We can sweep around them, take them by surprise, and corner them," Dick suggested.

"That puts the civilians right in the middle of the fight," a soldier said.

"They already are," Dick pointed out. "And they're being killed. We need to move fast."

"What about a distraction?" Gar wondered aloud, blinking in surprise when everyone looked at him. With a grin and a shrug, he gestured to himself, Dick, and Kory.

"Draw Hydra away from the civilians," Dick mused. "And we _would_ make a pretty good distraction."

"You would just like a moment to show off," Kory teased.

"Can you blame me?" Dick asked, nudging her shoulder.

She chose to ignore the way a couple of the soldiers rolled their eyes and smirked suggestively at them.

The former tributes waited five minutes for the soldiers to get into position, then burst into action. Bolting into the open, they took down two soldiers — Gar's first-ever shot missed — before they were forced to duck and cover behind a dumpster.

Dick jerked his head back, motioning at a storefront across the street and behind them. The door was set back, making a small alcove.

Kory nodded, and when Dick and Gar jumped to their feet to return fire, she booked it across the street, throwing herself into the alcove just in time. The brick by her head burst, dust flying in her face as it was torn apart. She pulled back, waiting for a lull, then leaned out and raised her gun.

The Hydra soldiers were still too close to the civilians for the others to show themselves, but the bulk of them were pulling away. Kory's focus jumped from target to target. Not all her shots hit, but it was a good distraction while Gar took advantage of her cover fire to run over and join her. Dick went last, sticking to the opposite side of the street.

Moving in tandem, they pulled back another twenty feet before the SHIELD soldiers made their appearance, raining gunfire down on the Hydra forces from alleys and rooftops.

"Loop around," Kory told Gar, waving her gun once for Dick to see before pulling away from the main road.

Hydra had the same idea, which meant the three of them were immediately met with resistance when they reached the next street over. Kory lashed out, bashing a soldier in the nose with her gun. She hooked her foot around his ankle and pulled, sending him sprawling, while Gar shot him in the shoulder.

Together, they made quick work of the soldiers that tried to ambush them. Gar provided fire support while Kory disrupted their charge, since the soldiers were too big for Gar to take down on his own. By the time they hit the main street again, much closer to the civilians than they were before, the number of Hydra soldiers had been halved.

Dick rejoined the fray in a manner that was very fitting for his person. There was a shout, a loud thump, and a Hydra soldier tumbled into the street, with Dick chasing after him.

Kory didn't waste time watching Dick fight — although she really, _really_ wanted to — and instead shot the soldier that was coming up behind her boyfriend.

"Thanks!" he shouted, but that was all he had time to say. He was fighting well, but he still favored one foot over the other, so he had to put all his focus into his work.

They defended the fleeing civilians, the three of them working side-by-side. Kory couldn't really describe how great it felt to be fighting together. Working in unison, playing off each other's strengths. She and Dick already had a flow to their fighting, but Gar fit so easily into it. Kory lamented that Raven wasn't there with them — and that they didn't know where Thea was. They should have sought Raven out at the least before leaving for the mission, so they could fight as they team they were meant to be. But time had been of the essence. Next time, Raven would be there with them.

It wasn't long before the last of the Hydra soldiers went down and everyone regrouped.

"There may be more soldiers around the city," Kory said. She wasn't sure how many people equalled an invasion, but that certainly didn't seem like enough.

"We should keep going and take care of any Hydra we see, just like these guys," Dick said. Everyone nodded their assent as the soldier in charge of their platoon reported back to base via the comm in his ear, smirking at the three of them all the while.

Gar grinned from ear to ear, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Kory reached out to squeeze his shoulder.

"It feels good to help, does it not?" she said.

"Yeah, it does," Gar said.

Kory didn't even have to see Dick's smile to know he agreed as well. This was what he needed, what they all needed. A chance to really do something. It wasn't as liberating as tracking down Ivy would have been, but it was satisfying in its own way.


	16. Chapter 16: Deadbeat Dads

**(A/N): Happy Friday! This time we're going to check in on someone we haven't seen for a while: Jade! Welcome back to the story, Jade :)**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed and to Slim Summers2002 for being a rockstar reviewer. Shout-out also to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your gushing review of the whole story. We're glad to hear you're enjoying it!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixteen- Deadbeat Dads**

 **Jade Nguyen, formerly of District Ten**

 **Written by tvfan69**

* * *

 _Am I your child? Or just a charity ward?_

 _\- For the Love of a Daughter,_ Demi Lovato

* * *

 _Jade's entire body was numb, her vision turning from black to white, and she accepted her fate. She would never make it home to Artemis, to Red, or to Garfield's parents. Maybe Harper could win the Games, but that felt like a hollow hope. Oh well; it didn't matter to her now._

Those were the thoughts that crossed through her mind during her final moments while the enraged screams of Harley Quinn filled her ears. They were also the thoughts coming back to her now as her mind started to work its way into consciousness, which should've been impossible.

With a startled gasp, she jumped into alertness — or she tried to.

She tried to jump but instead found her body met with a heavy resistance, her limbs stiff and, when her eyes found the strength to open and look around, strapped down by large leather restraints. Panicking, she began looking in every direction, admittedly a little surprised that her neck hadn't been tied down like the rest of her. She was dressed in a hospital gown, and the room around her was dark, with gray walls and bright lights in the ceiling hurting her eyes. Was this supposed to be hell? She always thought it would be worse — and that she would feel a little more dead.

"Rise and shine, little girl," a gruff voice spoke out from a corner of the room she couldn't see, but it froze her blood all the same.

Still, it did confirm one thing at least: this place was definitely hell.

The heavy footfalls of his boots served as her warning of his approach, and before she knew it, a familiar and burly man with his face covered by a hockey mask was blocking out the harsh light.

She never thought she would ever miss a blinding light.

"Is this my reward?" she asked, maybe a bit too smugly, but she couldn't find it in her to care even if she wanted to. After all the crap she endured, she felt she deserved one chance to mouth off to Lawrence. "I put up with you for sixteen years, then got choked out by a clown over a spider, so at least I get to see you suffer with me?"

The laughter that bubbled from Lawrence with her words forced Jade to rethink them; her stomach turned into a twisted knot as she watched him. She couldn't see most of his face thanks to the mask, but she was almost positive he was smirking.

"Don't sell yourself so high, little girl; you're not lucky enough to stay dead."

 _Of course not,_ she thought to herself. _That would require the universe showing me some kind of mercy._

"So where am I?" she demanded, "And why are you here? Heaven knows you aren't the one who resuscitated me."

She could practically see his eyes narrow underneath his mask, could almost hear his teeth gritting together. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his hand clench into a fist, and she wanted to dare him to hit her. She wanted so bad to tell him to take his shot while she was tied down and unable defend herself at all, not even turn away.

"You think you know everything, Jade," he growled instead of hitting her, which was a first for him. "Ever since the day you were born, you've been nothing but a smartass. You always thought you knew better than me, better than your mother, and that's why you died." He let that sit with her for a moment, "I didn't bring your sorry ass back to life so you could mouth off, Jade. I thought dying might have taught you some respect."

She couldn't fight the urge to roll her eyes and scoff at his story. If the Games taught her anything, it was perspective. She didn't ask to be put in those Games any more than she asked to be born into the world's most dysfunctional family. She couldn't have cared less about the political gain any Gamemaker or sponsor had at stake with her survival or her death; all she cared about was getting through for her own sake. She didn't owe those pompous asshats in the Capitol a damn thing — and she owed even less respect to Lawrence.

"What would you bring my sorry ass back from the dead for, then?" she asked. "You've been trying to kill me since the day I was born."

When Lawrence stood stoic for a moment, she thought he was thinking through different forms of torture. When he raised his hands, she thought he was going to lunge forward and strangle her, force her to die that very painful death all over again.

Maybe this was hell after all.

Maybe he would strangle her and she would wake up here again, have this conversation again, and be strangled again. Maybe the cycle would continue endlessly, on and on, death after death at her father's hands, with no rest, for all of eternity.

But, instead, Lawrence reached up and unbuckled his mask, his expression long and his sigh heavy once he removed it.

"Trying to kill you Jade, or trying to keep you alive?"

His expression was grave and tired, but she had seen that look on him before. Not many times, granted, but enough that she wasn't going to fall for it again. It was the face he would put on during the few occasions where he chose reason over force. She could remember a time when he used that face on her mother, back when Artemis was just a baby and she was still little herself. She had watched from her bedroom doorway as her mom said she'd had enough, that she was going to take her and Artemis and all three of them were going to leave. Of course, she never did — Lawrence told her things would be different and kissed her. Jade can't remember if things ever were different for even a short time after that, but ultimately, he was a terrible father and an arguably worse husband.

She trusted that face a handful of times after that day — and received a beating for her efforts every time.

"This world is falling apart, Jade; I've been telling you that since you were old enough to understand."

 _Old enough to talk is_ not _the same as old enough to understand,_ Jade thought bitterly to herself, but she decided to keep the words in her mind, for once.

"There's a rebellion at hand, and Hydra has asked for our help in winning."

Jade didn't think it was possible for her heart to break, not when it was already shattered long ago. But this world has always had a knack for proving her wrong in the worst possible ways.

"You're joking." She had to deny his claim. "There is no way _anyone_ would even notice a joker like you."

Lawrence sneered at her, the very same sneer that had been followed by the stinging slap of his palm so many times in the past.

 _Good,_ she thought. _Go ahead and hit me._

It was an insane thought, really, almost as insane as the idea that the mysterious, almost fabled Hydra had hired him of all people to run any type of operation. But this whole situation was getting to be too much. She was alive when she shouldn't be, strapped down to some kind of examination table like an animal awaiting dissection. She needed something to make sense, for something to be normal, even if that something had to be a slap in the face.

But the slap never came.

Instead, the scowl morphed into a smirk.

"You haven't heard all my stories little girl. I've been sending reports on Ten to Lex Luthor for years, but things are changing now. It's time to come out of hiding, and we need all hands on deck."

"Let's say I do believe you, and I'm not entirely sure that I do. Why would Hydra waste time bringing me back from the dead?"

"Simple." Lawrence grunted at the question, as though the answer should be obvious to her. "You're a trained killer who is supposed to be dead. Our enemies will never see you coming."

Jade wanted to laugh at that. Of all the ridiculous plans Lawrence has ever claimed to have for her, that one had to be the dumbest. "Again, we're assuming I believe you here — what makes you think I'm going to fight for _you_?" she asked, and Lawrence shrugged.

"The fact that if you don't fight them... there isn't going to be anybody out there to watch your sister's back."

Jade only needed a second to allow her eyes to double in size. As soon as she registered that smug smirk on Lawrence's face, she wanted to show him just what she learned in the Capitol, in the Games — just how dangerous she had become since she last saw him. But the restraints made that rather difficult, and she ended up doing nothing more than thrashing around like a helpless animal.

"She's a kid!" she roared when it became apparent that she wasn't going to get her hands on Lawrence — and so the only tool left at her disposal was logistical reasoning, like _that_ had ever had any affect on him. "She's just a kid!"

Lawrence slammed his hand down on the table at her sudden tantrum, right next to her ear, but Jade only responded to his by throwing her head to the side and attempting to bite his thumb. He yanked his hand away and snarled at her, rose his hand up to show her he was in charge, just like always, and…

"Enough!"

The loud shout was punctuated by the slamming of a door, and while she was certainly still pissed as hell, Jade did want to know who the newcomer was. So she stopped flailing around and looked past Lawrence as best she could; and her breath hitched when she saw who she was looking at.

She had never seen him in person, only in news reports. He was taller than she thought he would be, though that could very well only be due to the fact that she was lying on her back while he was standing upright. He was wearing a nice suit, nowhere near as extravagant as the outfits she saw in the Capitol but still far above anything she had ever seen back in Ten. His head was void of all hair, and some childish curiosity hidden in the very back corners of her mind questioned whether his hair was shaved off intentionally or if he had lost it naturally. She inwardly scoffed at the thought — like that detail would really matter. At least now she could be sure that Lawrence, as unlikely as it may seem, had told her the truth. He really was in bed with Hydra; why else would Lex Luthor have just barged in?

"You were supposed to wake her up and explain the situation, not work her into a panic." Luthor scolded her father with disapproval, and even though she knew he couldn't be trusted, to say the least, Jade took pleasure in it.

Lawrence, obviously none too thrilled with being reprimanded like a child, set his jaw and stepped into a more neutral stance. Jade wanted to laugh at the sight. Now it all made sense. Her father was worse than a joke of a criminal; he was a _dog._ A spineless errand boy and a pathetic little worm of a man trying so hard to get up to par and play with the big boys that it was comical.

Jade filed the observation away for later as Luthor stepped closer to her, eyeing her up and down with moderate interest before he made eye contact — and only then did he smile.

"My apologies for the rude awakening, Jade. I thought things might go more smoothly if the first face you saw was a familiar one, but obviously, I was mistaken." He snarled the last part of the statement, glaring over at Lawrence for a moment before he brought his attention back to her. "How are you feeling?"

He couldn't care less how she was feeling, not really. Jade didn't trust that false concern in his tone for a second; all he wanted to know was whether her "resurrection" was a success or if there were any problems ... or something along those lines, anyway. Still, her options here were extremely limited — him or her father — so she might as well play along.

For now.

"Confused, mostly," she admitted, "Is there a reason I'm strapped to a table?"

Luthor smirked at the question. "Just a precaution," he answered, "Sometimes, there can be a bit of shock in waking up after being brought back, particularly for those who died in high stress situations; we just didn't want for you to accidentally hurt yourself."

 _Or anyone else,_ Jade thought to herself bitterly.

"But," Luthor continued, "it's obvious that you're stable and coherent, so there's no need for it anymore."

With that said, he began unbuckle the restraints holding her down. Her entire body breathed a sigh of relief as it was freed, starting with her legs and followed by her torso and arms and finally her chest. Jade had noticed earlier that every part of her was stiff under the thick straps, but only now did she realize how heavy her limbs felt. Her mind wanted to move, to at least sit up, but when she tried, it felt like she was still moving through the swampy waters of the arena. Her back felt like lead as she pushed herself up, her head heavy on her shoulders. Her weight on her hand, even for a second, felt awkward and foreign.

"There," Luthor practically purred, his voice cutting through her hazy thoughts like a knife. "Now, doesn't that feel better?"

She wanted to scoff at the way he was speaking to her, like she was a sickly child or a wounded animal. But she was a little too preoccupied with how far from better she actually felt.

"You might feel a little stiff at first," Luthor said, as though he were reading her mind. "That's normal. Your new body isn't used to moving, but as time goes on, that will change."

"New body?" she asked, one eyebrow arched up.

"Of course." Luthor practically sneered at her. "We're scientist, not miracle workers. That clown girl did a number on your windpipe, not to mention the long-tterm affects your leg would have suffered after those arrows. Even if we could have salvaged your original body, you would have spent too much time in recovery. We began growing this new body for you at the start of the Games, just as precaution."

Jade had never felt much in the way of… well; she would guess that this feeling would be panic. With a blink of her eyes, her vision zoned out, seeming to echo ... if such a thing was even possible. She wasn't seeing double or anything like that, but everything she could see, while it didn't look like it had moved, suddenly _felt_ like it was a million miles away. Her skin felt cold and clammy and her breath short. She made an effort not to show it.

"You're still you, Jade," Luthor assured her, his words suddenly much too loud for her ears to handle. She wanted to focus on them, to take careful notes on everything he was saying, but just the thought of it was enough to churn her stomach. "Everything you ever were, you are now. We've done nothing to your mind other than save it from a premature death. You still have your free will; the body is nothing more than a gift. You may take it and go, or you can stay here with us and learn to hone it by training alongside your sister as one of our most valuable assassins."

The words, though they had come from Luthor, left a vile taste in Jade's mouth. He was smart, using the reminder that they have Artemis as the seal of her fate. He said she had a choice, but she didn't; her only option here was to play their game.

For now.

"I didn't die in that arena to let the Gamemakers win," she growled, forcing herself to power through the feeling of the bile rising in her throat. "I'm in."

* * *

From there, things moved quickly. Luthor led her out of the dark room and into an even darker hallway, all with her father following closely behind. There was a door at the end of the hallway that Luthor opened for her, revealing a surprisingly lit bathroom. The walls and floors were all white tile, and hanging on a hook adjacent to the toilet was a mess of black fabric strung over a hanger.

"Get changed," Luthor instructed her with a smile that wasn't fooling her for a second. "Once you're done, meet us just down there." He pointed to the other end of the hall, and Jade nodded, then stepped into the bathroom and allowed Luthor to close the door behind her.

Then, she collapsed.

Her knees gave way underneath her. She just barely managed to catch her weight on her hands, and even then, her arms buckled. With her head lying on the cool tile of the floor, she inhaled deep, gasping breaths. At first, she just focused on breathing, in and out, in and out, until her head began to clear and her thoughts became coherent again.

That's when the anger set in.

He had Artemis here.

Red was supposed to protect her; why didn't he protect her? Was he here too? Was he dead? Had Lawrence gotten his hands on him and forced him away from his younger daughter?

The different scenarios of her friend's fate swam through her head and gave her the strength she needed to push herself up. She wasn't going to get answers lying here on a bathroom floor. She needed to get changed and get out there, to get to Artemis. Then she could ask what happened to Red — to find out if he had good reason for abandoning the one thing she had asked he do in her absence.

She didn't want to think about what might have happened to her mom.

Getting to her feet, Jade grabbed the hanger down from its hook, laying it over the closed lid of the toilet and pulling the fabric apart. It was a single black bodysuit, an extra flap of fabric attached at the chest that she assumed was meant to be pulled up over her mouth and nose, the strap on the backside of it likely to secure it over her head. The feet were enclosed, with rubber grips on the soles as so to eliminate the need for shoes. The gloves, oddly enough, were fingerless, with nothing but a strap to hook over her thumb. But there was a belt of small pouches at the waist, and upon checking them, Jade found the only one containing anything had a pair of traditional-looking gloves, fingers and all.

Reaching behind her neck, Jade undid the knot holding her hospital gown together and let the garment fall to the floor.

Looking down at her new body, she felt hot tears prickling at the edges of her eyes, and she wanted to scream.

She shouldn't have turned to face the mirror, but she did, and it took every ounce of self-control she possessed to keep from shattering the glass with her fist.

She couldn't remember a time where her body looked like this, unmarked.

Lawrence, abusive and stupid as he was, never left any scars. He didn't want people knowing what he was doing to his girls. He left bruises, sure, but those would heal. They were almost always in discrete places, such as on her hips or shoulders, and if anyone did ever see them, he could tell them she simply made a rough landing falling out of a tree.

As she got older, Jade tried to fight his abuse by wearing more revealing clothes, cutting the sleeves off her tops and the legs off her pants. It worked to a degree — but not enough that she ever found herself not covered in scrapes and bruises. She would've given anything to take those marks off her body, those things put there by Lawrence to remind her he was in charge.

The fact that they were gone, that _he_ took them away just as easily as he gave them, left a sick taste of bile in her mouth that she swallowed down.

She got changed, equal parts happy and disturbed to find that the suit fit her seamlessly, like a second skin. Along with the suit, they left her a tie for her hair, which felt brittle and greasy to her touch but not quite as knotted as she was used to, and combing her fingers through it was easier than she remembered.

Another reminder that this body was not the one she knew.

She tied back her hair in a low ponytail and headed out of the bathroom, making her way down the hall — where Luthor was waiting for her.

When she reached him, he smiled at her and pressed a button on the wall for the elevator they were standing in front of. She couldn't tell if he was waiting for her to ask him something, be it where had her father gone or something else entirely, but she wouldn't. Sure, she had about a million questions running through her mind, and Luthor seemed like a patient enough man that he would be willing to give her an answer to most of them, though she couldn't predict whether those answers would be truthful or not.

But she didn't want to ask any of those questions, too afraid of the answers she might get.

The elevator was a little too much like the tubes from the arena for Jade's liking, but she didn't allow that to show. She just needed to get through this training in one piece, physically and mentally.

When the door opened, they were in a large room that looked a lot like the arena training gym, complete with an observation deck. The floor of the room was padded, albeit badly, and one corner housed a whole mess of targets with various indents scarred into them from a variety of weapons. There were mats and dummies scattered about, along with ropes hanging from the ceiling and a weapons rack over on the side wall. But what really caught Jade's attention about the room was the group of people standing in the center of it.

There were three adults, one her father with his ridiculous hockey mask back in place, one a dark-skinned woman in a long gray dress, matching shawl, and a gaudy, gold-colored crown with matching earrings, and the last was a man wearing a business suit with a smile about as trustworthy as Luthor's. In front of them were two girls standing stiffly at attention, and Jade knew them both.

The first was Thea Queen. Jade hadn't seen much of One's female tribute since the Capitol, and even then, she didn't see much of her — but she was pretty sure it would be a safe bet to say she didn't come out of the games as the victor.

The second girl was Artemis.

Jade caught her sister's eyes widen slightly, minutely, but that was all the reaction she gave to seeing her. The little girl who ran to her in the back of Ten's courthouse was still evident in her eyes, but a tight leash was holding her back.

Lawrence was going to regret teaching the two of them to kill.

"Nice of you to join, us Ms. Nguyen," the man in the suit said. Clearly, he was impatient, but Jade didn't miss the way Lawrence's eyes narrowed when he called her by the name she had chosen at the Reaping, so she was willing to let his condescending tone slide.

"Jade," Luthor said, gesturing to the man in the suit. "This is Malcolm Merlyn." He introduced the man before moving his hand to the woman. "And Queen Bee. And, of course, you already know Thea and Artemis."

Thea nodded at her, her face a stern scowl, and while Artemis' expression was softer, she nodded as well.

"You girls are going to be a team," Luthor announced, his tone one a normal person would use when trying to convince much younger children to do something. "We have confidence that, with time, you'll become one of our most reliable, capable of doing great things."

"Two of us just died in an arena where we couldn't trust anyone; you can't seriously expect us to just work together," Jade snipped, and she heard a growl come from her father. But for the first time that day, it was satisfying when he didn't hit her. It was clear that Luthor was watching him, always. Here, he couldn't do whatever he wanted; he couldn't punish her the way he would like to.

Luthor didn't seem amused by her comment either, but he also didn't appear angered by it.

"I expect a small adjustment period," he admitted with a shrug before the corner of his mouth pulled up in a wicked grin. "But with training and close observation, it will hardly be a blip on the radar in the grand scheme of things."

With her question answered, more or less, Luthor turned to address the other girls and, more importantly, their apparent trainers.

"Let's get started," he said, his evil grin on full display.


	17. Chapter 17: Righteous Anger

**(A/N) Hello, and welcome again to our Tuesday edition of "Death Is Not The End"! Today, we're going to check in with someone that's been quiet thus far in the story - Kurt Wagner, brought you you as always by the lovely Ophelia Claire!**

 **Thanks as always to our lovely reviewers - TheRaspberryVigilante41 and Slim Summers2002, we appreciate the time you've taken to let us know how our last chapter made you feel - and any speculation you might have for upcoming chapters! Many thanks to you, and to our authors who took a moment to review their friends - the marathon and catch up reviews are always fun to read!**

 **Without any further ado, we give you _The Amazing Nightcrawler!_**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventeen — Righteous Anger**

 **Kurt Wagner, Formerly of District Nine**

 **District Twelve SHIELD Base**

 **Written By Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _I long for the raised voice, the howl of love or rage." -Leslie Fiedler_

* * *

Kurt paced circles around the small briefing room, his steps growing faster and more insistent with each sentence he spoke..

"So let's go over this again. You went to get Kate, _without telling me_. You brought her back _without telling me_. And now apparently you've been going to see her and I can't, and you're _still not telling me why_?"

Logan watched him the whole time, and when he was done, he let out a breath and nodded his head. "That's kinda simplifyin' things, but yeah."

"So give me the details, then."

Logan let out a sigh and rubbed his temple with one hand. "She's not herself," Logan said simply. "And you don't want to see her until she is. Which … we're workin' on. Or … Charlie's workin' on it. I'm not goin' in with her —just watchin' her sessions when I can. She can't see me. And _you_ aren't ready for this. Yet."

"How do you know? How do you know what I can and can't handle?" Kurt stopped behind a chair opposite Logan and clamped his hands on the back.

"Because I know where you're coming from wantin' to see her. Right now, she's not the same girl you knew." He paused and tipped his head. "She's made a little progress, but it's rough."

"I just want to see her, Logan. I didn't even know she was alive, and then I did, and then she was gone again, and _now she's here and I can't do anything._ "

Logan put his hands on the table and leaned toward him slightly. "She doesn't remember most of the Games. At all. She didn't even know your name to start with."

Kurt's face fell. "To start with," he repeated. "Does she now?"

Logan didn't move for a moment but finally nodded once.

"And...is it good or bad? Does she...does she hate me or…"

"I don't know yet," Logan said. "She's hell-bent on seein' you, but considering the only thing she's been more obsessive about is killin' me, I'm playin' it on the cautious side."

"She's still holding that grudge?" Kurt asked.

"No idea if that's it or if it's somethin' else," Logan said. "She did her best to fight me when I brought her in with Clint and America. Nobody hurt her."

"Has anyone else besides Charles talked with her? Does she react that way with anyone else?"

"No," Logan said, shaking his head. "She's only seen Charlie, and she's lost it with him a few times."

"That's… not reassuring," Kurt muttered. "Maybe if I just was able to see her...if she could see me through a window or something…."

But Logan was already shaking his head. "Forget it."

Kurt's brow furrowed. "And why are you the authority here?"

"Because I've seen the same thing with Fox and I know how desperate I was to fix it when I saw her," Logan said. "Right up until she tasered me for breathin'."

Kurt pressed his lips together like he was trying to come up with an argument for that. "Well, it could be different… she's already reacted differently to my name…"

"Demanding to see you isn't any kind of a talkin' point. Could be that you're next on her hit list."

"So that's why we do it with a barrier!" Kurt argued. "And then we can see how she reacts!"

But Logan continued to shake his head slowly. "She's gotta show somethin' other than 'fight me' and 'go to hell'."

"Maybe I'm what it'll take to make that happen!" Kurt threw up his hands and started his circles again.

Logan crossed his arms and watched Kurt pace. "I'll talk to Charlie and let you know."

"Could ask him myself," Kurt muttered. "He doesn't have the stubborn streak of an old donkey."

"You'd be surprised," Logan deadpanned. "But from what he's told me, I'm not the only one that doubts it's gonna happen easy."

Kurt huffed. "Nothing at all?"

"Not yet. I'll let you know when that changes."

"I don't want to be on the 'let you know' list, Logan!" Kurt stopped a few feet from his friend and crossed his arms. "I can't see my family, and you guys are all I have here, and if Kate isn't here, then _everything_ is incomplete. She means as much to me as you and Pete and Mama and the twins — and if _any of you_ were in her place…" Kurt threw up his hands again and ground his teeth, turning away from Logan. His shoulders rose and fell quickly as he tried to steady his breathing.

"That's the best I can give you right now." Logan's tone was even and almost monotone.

"The — the _best_ —" Kurt whirled back around, red spots bright on his cheeks.

Logan uncrossed his arms and held Kurt's gaze. "Yeah. _For now."_

Kurt made a noise in his throat that was half indignant grunt, half upset whine. "That's not good enough, Logan!" His shoulders tensed and without thinking, his arm snapped out and he slapped Logan across the face. There was a beat of perfect silence and stillness. The red spots drained from Kurt's cheeks. His expression melted from anger and frustration into mild horror.

"Logan, I — I didn't—"

Logan held up a hand. "Stop."

"No, no. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have lashed out..."

"Just forget it," Logan said. "You did what you needed to. It's fine."

"It's _not_." Kurt sighed. "I… I just miss her so much, Logan. And she's _right there_."

"I know," Logan said, still in that soft monotone and not looking up at Kurt at all. "I'm _trying_ to get her back for you."

"Yeah," Kurt said. "Yeah. Thank you. You're doing your best, and I am grateful, _mein Freund_."

"You know you're at the top of the 'let you know' list, right?" Logan said, tipping his chin down.

"Seems only right," Kurt sighed.

At that, Logan nodded once and let out a breath before he simply started for the door.

Kurt rushed behind him and reached out to take a hold of Logan's shoulder, stopping him and then pulling him in for a brief hug before Logan could react. "Thank you," Kurt said softly before he released Logan.

"Forget it," he replied once again in that disturbingly even tone simply heading out.

"One of these days, I'll get a _you're welcome_ ," Kurt said as Logan disappeared through the door with his wide-eyed shadow agent following closely behind him.

"I think you broke him," Peter said quietly over Kurt's shoulder as they watched Logan and Skye disappear down the hall. "I didn't think that was something that happened."

Kurt shook his head slowly. "Neither did I," he said before he let his shoulders drop. He needed to clear his head and get some air — and then he would find Logan and do his level best to apologize again. The last thing he wanted to do was alienate his best friend.

* * *

Several days passed, and though Kurt had managed to come to terms with not getting in to see Kate — at least on the surface — he couldn't find Logan for anything. It was on one of his sneakier walks through the base trying to corner him somewhere, though, that he managed to bump into what turned out to be the next best thing.

"Mister Wagner!" Charles said brightly as he gently tossed a file onto a nearby table. "Just who I was hoping to see. I heard you might be looking for me."

Kurt couldn't help but smile. "And who might have told you that?"

"A mutual friend, I'm sure," Charles replied, eyes sparkling.

Kurt shook his head at that. Of course Logan would be unreachable to him and still find a way to help. That didn't exactly make him feel any better about how he had left that last conversation. "Yes, well…"

"So, Kurt, will you be joining my session with Kate today? Observation first, of course."

Kurt's eyebrows shot up, and he had already started to nod before he even spoke. "Of course! I'd love to. But I thought—"

"Excellent," Charles said. "Hopefully this will give you a little better insight as to how she's doing. I know Logan is a bit … sparse with his descriptions when they mean the most to someone else." He gestured for Kurt to follow him, smiling brightly all the way down to a room not too terribly far from where Logan had set up his office space, if you could call it that. Charles gestured to the door across the hall from where they'd stopped. "If you would please, go inside and take a seat. Keep the lights off and try to remain quiet. We can discuss whatever you like when the session is over."

Kurt nodded and took his seat, his heart racing. The last time he'd seen Kate had been at a distance, when she had been _shooting_ at his best friend. But there, on the other side of a one-way mirror window, was Kate, pacing in a small, white room.

His breath caught in his throat as he watched her. She looked amazing — and at the same time, she looked terrible, obviously upset and …. She just didn't look like herself.

Charles entered the room with Kate a short moment later - still wearing his gentle, relaxed smile. "Good morning, Kate," Charles said as he tried for bright and cheerful. "How are you feeling today?"

"I'm fine," Kate said in what was clearly a rote response.

"I've arranged for a little higher quality coffee today, if you'd be tempted," Charles said. "A pair of lattes … one is chocolate, the other is chocolate and marshmallow." He gestured to the coffee with a subued smirk.

"Pretty extravagant stuff for the middle of a war," Kate pointed out without taking a step toward the coffee.

"Yes, well. I thought you'd been making some progress, and I wanted to show my appreciation."

Kate paused at that and narrowed her eyes. "And what do you want in return?" she asked guardedly.

"Not a thing," Charles said. "There isn't a payment system in place, Kate. And I'm not inclined to consider anything of the sort."

"You brought me chocolate in wartime and don't want me to thank you," Kate said, in a dull tone that said she didn't believe it.

"I'm very certain the chocolate was here before the war, Kate," Charles replied simply. "And I don't ask for thanks that aren't heartfelt." He tipped his chin up slightly and made his way over to pick up one of the coffees — not paying attention to which one it was. "But if you're not interested, then I'm not above it myself."

Kate watched him for a long time, her eyes narrowed, before she held out her hand. "Alright," she said slowly. "That's the chocolate and marshmallow?"

Charles looked down at the cup and nodded his head. "It appears so."

"I'd like to try it."

"Certainly," Charles replied before he brought it to her.

Kate didn't take her gaze off of Charles the whole time until she did finally try the latte, and Kurt on the other side of the glass couldn't help but smile when he saw the way Kate looked surprised and then delighted — and then tried to act like she wasn't. At least that hadn't changed too much — she still liked coffee.

Kate kept the latte in her hand for the rest of the session with Charles. And though Kurt didn't know it, he had managed to observe one of the better sessions for Kate; she didn't end up losing her temper with Charles or demanding anything other than a few pleas to be let out and one to return to Hydra that had Kurt fuming when he heard how desperate it sounded.

But it was at the end of the session that Kurt really saw how much she had changed when Charles was preparing to leave and meant to take the empty cups with him. It was plain to see for even someone untrained in psychology that Kate was holding her breath and honestly _scared_ until Charles left — without asking her for anything.

Kurt was starting to get an idea of what was going on, and he didn't like it.

"Mr. Wagner, you may well be a lucky charm," Charles said as he joined Kurt again.

Kurt shook his head, still looking toward the room Kate was in. "That was a good session, then?" he asked, torn on whether to be angry or sad about it.

"It was indeed," Charles said. "You must understand, Kurt, Kate … Kate has been mistreated by those that put themselves above her to a degree that I cannot entirely know for sure. Though I suspect it had to have been awful for her."

Kurt nodded slowly, that same rage from before — the kind that had prompted him to _hit_ Logan — back and burning in his chest. "Do you know who…?"

"After speaking with Miss Romanoff and Miss Schmidt, yes. Yes, I do.… His name is Zebediah Kilgrave, and he's one of Hydra's top … _handlers_."

"Handlers," Kurt repeated, the word like a curse. "What did he do to Kate?"

"The details, I'm afraid, I don't know. But … if you go by my suspicions — based on the way she handles herself, and how she expects to have to almost _pay_ for every kindness — anything he wanted."

"I see," Kurt said tightly before he got to his feet, already propelling into action before his head could catch up with his heart.

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Wagner?" Charles asked.

"Yes. You could tell me where to find my best friend so I can tell him where I'm going."

Charles smirked. "There's a private training room he's been going to — usually after he watches a session here. You can find it through the bookshelf in the office. One of Fury's designs, I'm sure."

"Thank you," Kurt said, then paused and gave Charles a more sincere smile. "For everything. I know it's not what I hoped to see, but… thank you."

"It is my sincere hope that you get her back safe and sound," Charles said. "And I will do my best to ensure that happens."

* * *

When Kurt found Logan — exactly where Charles had predicted — he was absolutely pounding a punching bag, in a near rage himself as he threw himself into the exercise. Again, his shadow was there, against a wall with a laptop along, doing whatever it was that she was supposed to do as well as her bodyguard assignment.

Logan saw him enter the room and barely glanced up between punches. "What're you doin' here?" he asked, not yet stopping.

"I came to say thank you," Kurt said. "I know you spoke to Charles Xavier about letting me see Kate."

Logan put his hand out to stop the bag swinging and watched Kurt for a moment. "Is that all? Figured you'd be wantin' to go."

Kurt let his shoulders drop. "Yes, well. Considering how our last conversation went, I wanted to be sure I started out properly," he admitted. "I do feel terrible, Logan. I know you're just doing what you have to—"

"Don't. You don't need to feel anything like that."

"Of course I do. You're my best friend, and that hasn't changed." He paused and smirked. "No matter how pretty the girl is that _temporarily_ made me lose my mind."

Logan leaned toward him. "If that was true, we should lock you up too," he teased. "But you didn't lose anything. What're you thinkin' you need?"

Kurt nodded at that. "I need a transport, and I need Natasha and Sin," he listed off. "Those two would know where I can find Kilgrave."

"You're not goin' anywhere with just those two," Logan said, turning back to the punching bag and not only hitting it but kicking it too. "I don't trust 'em."

"They _are_ my best chance of finding this monster," Kurt pointed out.

"Still not sending you off alone with 'em," Logan said, frowning hard. "And I can't go anywhere yet." He thought about it for a long moment. "Take Petey. Or Clint. Both if you wanna watch Clint and Tasha flirt without flirting."

"We'll see," Kurt said with a quiet smirk. "I was going to take Peter anyway. We've been talking about going to Kate's rescue since Wade suggested she was still alive. I wouldn't dream of leaving him behind now."

Logan nodded at that and stepped back from the heavy bag. "I'll arrange for a good pilot. Get you the intel you need." He took a long, deep breath. "I want you and Petey in my armor, too."

Kurt nodded before he darted forward and wrapped Logan in a hug — like it or not. "I'll get her back, Logan. Thank you."

It took a moment, but Logan let out a breath and returned the hug lightly. "You can stop that. I'm just doing my job."

"Who said I was only hugging you for the mission?" Kurt asked with a smirk. "Can't I hug my best friend?"

"I mean the thanking me part, you lunatic."

"Ah, well, my mother raised me to be grateful and kind, so I'm afraid I can't."

"Right," Logan said, shaking his head at him, and then he turned to his shadow and let out a shrill whistle to catch her attention. "Hey, Skye — think you can set those two up with something better than the crap they give everyone?"

The agent looked up and smiled. "Sure I can. And I bet I can get the latest intel on this guy's position if you give me five minutes."

"Like you weren't doin' that when he walked in already," Logan said, shaking his head.

"Okay, so I was, but the algorithm won't be finished for five minutes. It's more impressive if it looks off-the-cuff; don't bust me out like that!" Skye said with a smile.

"Yeah, no. Job description," Logan said in a breath before he started unwrapping his hands — which were already showing the bruises along his knuckles from the hits he'd been handing out.

Kurt nodded slowly. "I'll be back for that location," he said. "After I talk to the others."

"If you tell 'em it'll hurt Hydra, they'll be game," Logan said. "And if you tell those girls it's for Kate, Hydra won't even matter."

Kurt smiled at that. "Good," he said. "Then we're all on the same page."


	18. Chapter 18: Ghost

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We're going into our second round of chapters in this book now, so let's welcome once more the lovely and talented Abby Well and her Poison Ivy!**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed as well as to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your excitement. We also love Logan and Kurt's friendship (as well as fun Clintasha references!)**

* * *

 **Chapter Eighteen - Ghost**

 **Outside of the District Twelve SHIELD Base**

 **Pamela Isley, formerly of District Eleven**

 **Written by Abby Well**

* * *

 _"Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what."_

 _Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses_

* * *

The sunshine heralded a temporary reprieve from the storms as it filtered down through branches that stretched high as the ceiling of the Capitol train station, a thousand shades of green entwined like lovers overhead. Delicate light shone down and cast stained-glass patterns across the ground, dancing over smooth leaves and petals, the skeletal shapes of fallen branches and elegant spikes of grass. The green had decided that a place was necessary for people to truly appreciate its magnitude and magnificence; so it was that this forest had grown so tall and proud.

So it was that now, slowly, reverently, Ivy walked in silent worship under the canopy.

Every step she took caused the scent of soft, damp earth to rise into the air as the ground acquiesced to her touch like the flesh of a lover. Every gust of the summer breeze that blew through her hair brought with it the sounds of the forest: rustling leaves and birdsong, creatures skittering through the undergrowth, everything she'd been kept from during her time with SHIELD when all there was to listen to was the stillness in the air and voices fighting inside her head.

She didn't know how long she'd been walking, but she was pleased to note that nobody had followed her. Perhaps they'd been too preoccupied with taking care of her agent to try and find out which direction she'd gone. Idly, without emotion, she wondered if she _had_ actually ended up killing him. Regardless, she was alone now, the only person for miles.

 _Person?_ the green whispered in her ear.

 _Person._ Ivy felt some hesitation in calling herself a human. She didn't feel entirely human any more.

The more she walked through this forest cathedral, the more it felt as if she was balancing on threads that made up the web of the world, binding tree to grass to flower to vine to tree. Only she could see them, touch them, feel them — and such power was surely beyond the grasp of an ordinary human. Nobody knew the green like she did, how it tied everything together with the warp and weft of life and death and the cycle of the seasons. The world would be nothing without it; Marvel would be nothing without it.

 _Marvel_ is _nothing. It will all fall to the green one day, when the humans are nothing but dust and we are all that's left. Its fate is already written._

Ivy stopped and looked upward, peering through the gaps in the canopy above. The sun was still overhead, and what she could see of the sky was pale rather than the ominous, swollen gray she'd seen when she'd left the compound. If she closed her eyes, she could still see the branches, and her fingers reached out unbidden to pluck and twist the threads of the green.

 _Lavender's blue, dilly dilly, lavender's green…_

What was that? Something… something from a long time ago. A woman's voice singing in the dark, rusty from too much work and too little sleep. Ivy couldn't remember who it was. Frowning, she shook her head free of phantom nursery rhymes and opened her eyes again. No time to get lost in her own mind. She had to find her way back to her children.

It was beginning to get darker now, the sun slipping back behind clouds overhead. Looking around, she spotted a nearby branch hanging low enough for her to grab onto. She approached the tree and softly rested her palm against the trunk, feeling the uniqueness of the bark, the strength that lay beneath a still exterior. How old was this tree? What had it seen of the world? She stroked the trunk gently, then rested her forehead against it and allowed herself a moment to let the tree take her weight, closing her eyes and breathing in its scent of age and time. When she stood straight again, she saw that the touch of her skin had left a smear of reddish mud across the bark.

Smiling, she reached up for the branch and gripped with both hands, pulling herself up until she was crouched a few feet above the soil. If there was one tiny upside to having spent time in the SHIELD compound, it was that she felt much stronger from being fed three square meals a day rather than scavenging from whatever the swamp could provide. She suspected, however, that if she'd been allowed sufficient time to learn everything the swamp had to offer, it would have turned out the same in there eventually.

 _Okay, tree. Let's work together._

Up and up she climbed, trusting the tree to keep her aloft as she carefully tested each branch. Sooner than she had expected, the canopy was within reach, and she gently reached out one hand to part the leaves above her head and break the surface.

 _Oh_.

The view… it was beautiful. So much green in every direction, rolling hills in all their verdant majesty, covered in trees with all their own stories to tell. It stretched on forever, and just for a moment, Ivy could imagine that was the way the whole world looked. Everything lush and green, everything alive and connected and hers. This was her world, and she looked down upon it with a smile on her face. She was a part of it all, and somewhere out there among all this beauty and green, she would fine her babies again. She would be with them soon, love them, nurse them, show them how she cared for them. Nobody else cared for them like she did.

Soon enough, though, more clouds swooped in overhead, gray and all-encompassing as they filled the sky. Ivy wondered how they could somehow look soft and inviting, dark and forbidding all at once, close enough, it seemed, for her to reach up and brush her fingertips through their vapor. When the first fat drops of rain began to fall, she tilted her head back and raised her face to the sky like a thirsting flower, open and bare.

The rain soaked her hair and cooled her brow, cleansing her anew. She parted her lips and swallowed it down, letting it fill her and cover her entirely; she spread her arms wide, trusting the tree to cradle her body, loving the way the branches twisted around her legs as if she'd waved her own hands to make them grow that way, to hold her as the jewel in a crown. She closed her eyes and let herself begin to drift in the green, the cold, the wet, the darkness, the feel of the rain splashing onto every inch of her bare skin. Though she believed in no gods or devils, sitting there above the world, she felt as if she had claimed some place among them, a place that had simply been waiting for her to realize its existence.

She didn't know how long the rain lasted, how long she had given herself over to the sky, but when she finally opened her eyes and saw that the sun was setting, she felt very disoriented. What had broken her trance? There had been a sound, perhaps, a half-remembered _something_ that she couldn't quite recall, like trying to describe the dream you feel slipping away from you as you speak. Her mind reached for it and came up empty.

 _It doesn't matter_ , she thought as she started to free herself from the nest of tree branches around her and make her way back down below the canopy, moving slowly and carefully. _You have more important things to do._

Much as she wanted to, she couldn't keep lingering in this forest; she had to get back to Eleven. Perhaps someday she could return here, though, to walk among these trees, visit her azalea, feel this same earth beneath her feet. It would be nice to see such friends again.

She stopped her descent a few feet above the ground and perched on a branch; suddenly, at the thought of friends, she felt overwhelmingly sad.

She wished Harley could see this.

She could imagine her, running about with a huge grin on her face, shouting for Ivy's attention whenever she spotted something new, tripping over tree roots because she wasn't paying attention to where she was going. The sound of her laughter would echo through the grove and bounce from tree to tree, and Ivy would sit patiently and watch her and smile. When she was done, they could curl up in a hollow and whisper secrets and learn each other and be together. Together and alive and _safe_.

 _Harley_.

Would this pain ever go away? She'd thought it had — she'd perhaps been so focused on escaping the compound that she'd let the pain slink into the darkness, where it seemed less formidable. It had still hurt to talk about her in there, but that pain had been brittle, would give way to anger at the slightest touch. Here, where she was opening herself up to the world once more, the true pain had reared up inside her and sunk its claws back into her heart. The wounds were not fresh, but they were still raw, and now that she was no longer stuck in SHIELD stasis, they were bleeding again.

Wrapping her arms around her chest, she leaned back and let the trunk of the tree catch her limp form. She had known pain before, and loss too, but it hadn't been like this. What did it mean, for it to be this bad? She missed Harley's laughter, that breath of fresh air that was so good at drawing her out of her darkest thoughts; those shining eyes, so expressive, blue like water, like she imagined the sea would be; and her _smile_.

When Harley smiled, _really_ smiled, it lit up her whole face, bright as the sun.

Ivy missed the sun. She closed her eyes and tried to picture it in her mind, but it was like trying to see through a fog of ghosts, too many Harley ghosts that whispered things she couldn't quite make out. They smiled at her, too, but those smiles were reflections, not the real thing.

Dejected, she dropped the last few feet down from the tree and landed in a crouch, then began to walk again. She'd been so happy only minutes before, but now, that had been replaced with too-familiar grief. She hated how all the pain could sneak up and latch onto her like this, when she was just trying to be strong and get back to her children, to where she belonged.

Maybe that was it. The Games has changed her, of course, but the world around her had changed too. Perhaps… she could no longer truly belong anywhere, if it wasn't with Harley.

She walked in silence, watching the soft earth pass beneath her. Darkness soon descended, and the forest around her began to prepare for the night ahead. The temperature dropped until she felt a slight chill on her skin; squeaks and rustles of beasts and bugs filled the air, and it became harder and harder to see where she was going. She had to squint and peer into the shadows — if she wanted to walk any further into the trees, she would have to go by feeling alone. While she was fairly confident in her ability to do so, she knew that she wasn't the only creature making her way through the forest that night.

Even as she thought that, she saw a beam of light pierce through the shadows ahead, swinging from side to side before the darkness swallowed it up again.

 _They've found me_ , was her immediate reaction, and instantly her whole body tensed up, ready to bolt.

 _They won't take me again_ , came next. She was awake this time. They wouldn't drug her and wash her and lock her up. She would fight them, kill them.

 _Wait_.

"I've been looking for an original sin, one with a twist and a bit of a spin…"

What was that? Was that… singing? And why did it sound familiar?

Slowly, Ivy crept forward in a half-crouch, holding out her hands ahead of her in case she bumped into something she couldn't see. Her fingertips brushed against leaves, and she parted them carefully, trying not to make too much noise. She could still hear the singing, snatches of it weaving between the trees.

"Done all the old ones 'til they've all been done in…" The voice rose in volume, creeping closer, and Ivy froze on the spot to peer through the leaves and wait for… whatever it was. There was a horrible feeling starting to grow in the pit of her stomach, but she kept listening, ears pricked, hardly daring to breathe. "Now I'm just looking, and I'm gone with the wind…"

With that next line of the strange little song, the beam of light swung around again, right over her.

She held her breath.

Had they seen her?

"Endlessly searching…"

Her blood was thrumming in her ears.

The light didn't pause, nor did it swing back toward her. It just kept moving in the same direction, and she started to make out a figure moving in the dark. A tall, skinny figure.

"For original sin..."

The singing stopped and was replaced with a whistle that followed the same tune, somehow uncomfortably shrill and yet melodious all at once. Then, the whistling ended too, and the light went spinning through the air, as whoever it was threw the torch they were carrying upward and unknowingly allowed Ivy to catch a glimpse of their face, a flash of teeth in the dark— and she knew.

It was _him_.

The Joker was alive, unscarred and unscathed, singing and whistling and walking through her forest.

The fear of discovery was immediately gone, swept away by a tidal wave of shock that filled her top and toe and left her poised on the knife edge of fury. She wanted to leap from her hiding place and pounce, throttle him, scream at him, demand to know how he could be alive, what he was doing here. Why did he have to be _here_? Why did it have to be _him_? How dare he invade her green, when he was already haunting her dreams with his laughter, when he was supposed to be dead?

He had no right to still be walking the earth. But he wouldn't be for long, now that she had seen him. He was in her world now, not the arena, not the asylum he'd tried to rule over. Sad little king of a sad little hill.

 _He has no idea what power is._

She watched him move away, still whistling intermittently, and she kept to the shadows as she followed. He wouldn't see her, she knew. Wherever he was heading, he clearly had a mission to complete, and for all his posturing and performance, he was focused on his destination, only giving his surroundings a cursory sweep with the torch every few minutes. She stayed behind him, creeping and camouflaged, stopping and starting when he did. Though it was dark, and only minutes before she had been struggling to see, she kept her gaze on that torch beam and let the rest of herself sink into the green around her. She moved on instinct, stepping easily through the undergrowth, ducking low-hanging branches and twisting her body to avoid getting caught by twigs or thorns, and making no more noise than the wind whipping through the trees.

With every step she took in the Joker's wake, her rage burned hotter. How could he be in front of her now, when she had seen him struck down in the arena? How could anyone go against nature like that? Why did it have to be him?

Why him, and not Harley?

Her chest burned with the question, the vengeful fire in her heart driving her onward as she stalked her prey. She slipped between two tree trunks and darted across a narrow gap in the earth, like a natural path carved by slithering roots, until she was on the other side of him and had a slightly better view. She still couldn't make out much, but his lanky figure seemed to be wearing similar clothes to what she'd been given, before she had discarded them on the forest floor. Was he SHIELD, then? Had they been the ones to bring him back? And if he was with them, why was he out here? Had they sent him somewhere?

No.

If SHIELD had sent him out on a mission and he was returning, he wouldn't be creeping around in secrecy so close to the compound. He'd come from somewhere else — as what, a scout? The beginnings of an invading force?

So many questions, twisting and swirling in the maelstrom inside her head, and ever the same pair rising to the surface over and over, hand in hand, to stop themselves floating apart.

 _Who?_

 _How?_

She shook her head. She could puzzle over such things later, when he wasn't tainting the green with his presence. Right now, she needed to take the chance that she'd been robbed of by Helena in the arena and end him once and for all. Her fingers twitched, eager to lock themselves around his neck, and she found she was barely breathing, not from fear but from an eerie sense of calm that was starting to settle on her like a shawl over her shoulders.

He was her target now. She would have to leave her babies for a little while longer, but they would surely understand. She had to do this. She had to do this, and then she could be free to go to them. She wouldn't be able to give them the proper care and attention they deserved from their mother until this phantom, this… this _creature_ was dead and buried.

Buried.

She wanted to bury him. She would be the one, and she would make sure no trace of him ever made it above the soil again. It felt right for his end to come by her hand, and some twisted sense of justice sprouted from the imaginings of his body rotting in the earth, becoming part of the green, under her control.

She grinned in the dark, an echo of the smile she'd seen in that flash from the torch. _Hell hath no fury_ , she mused, and she crept forward again, always, always keeping him in her sight. The cusp of the forest was growing nearer — she could see the compound's floodlights through the myriad gaps between leaves. If she was going to keep following, she would need to be careful. Stick to the shadows, the trees, so they couldn't capture her again. She slowed her steps and sank silently into a half-crouch as she moved. Her heart thudded in her chest, a rhythmic reminder that she was strong and alive, had always been alive. She hadn't died in the arena and somehow been resurrected; no, she was a survivor.

But he wasn't.


	19. Chapter 19: Territorial Elf

**(A/N): Welcome back to our story! We're getting a real treat and following up with Kurt much sooner than the last round ;) Ophelia totally rocks it, as usual.**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed as well as to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your reviews. We love to see the excitement as things heat up!**

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen — Territorial Elf**

 **Kurt Wagner, Formerly of District Nine**

 **District Twelve SHIELD Base**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire**

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" _Revenge is an act of passion." -Samuel Johnson_

* * *

There was anger like Kurt had never felt pulsing through his veins as he stood at the window of Kate's room. His team was ready to go, but he had gotten permission to come back for one more session. Just to see her, remind himself what he was fighting for.

Her sessions with Charles had shown some improvement, Charles assured him, but she was still guarded, and her trust wavered as easily as the breeze changing direction. She still remembered him, or at least parts of their time together, and it eased the ache in his heart to hear her ask about him, but the fact that he couldn't go in yet brought it right back.

It was a funny, frustrating thing, to have Kate so physically close to him and yet emotionally and mentally so far away. He wanted more than anything to run in and hug her, to wrap her up in his arms and just squeeze her pain and confusion away.

Kurt kind of wanted to kiss her too. He hadn't really ever gotten the chance to do that before… everything. He'd read stories to Amanda (and occasionally Stefan, but his brother usually claimed that fairy tales were "too gross" for him) where everything had been solved with true love's first kiss — the princess had been awakened, or the curse had been broken — and part of him wished that real life was as easy as that.

It was painful to watch Kate, but Kurt was storing up the anger and frustration for his upcoming mission. It would help fuel his actions, because today, they were going to find Kilgrave. He along with Peter, Sin, and Natasha would be heading out shortly, chasing down a lead on Kilgrave's location.

In fact, he ought to go and collect his things and get ready to ship out. He took one last look at Kate's sulking expression and took a deep breath, packing all his rage into a neat little box in his mind, ready to be opened when the moment was right.

If Kurt was being honest, he hoped the moment would be right when his sword was at Kilgrave's throat and pleas for mercy were spilling from the man's lips.

He waved gently to Kate, even though the glass was one-way and she had no idea he was there, before heading to his room to collect his swords and body armor.

Peter met him as Kurt was leaving his room.

"You ready for this, buddy?" Peter asked, putting a gentle yet firm arm around Kurt's shoulders.

Kurt nodded. "I know it isn't going to fix Kate right away, but _mein Gott_ , Peter, it'll make me feel so much better to know that he won't be able to hurt anyone else, whatever the outcome is today, with Kilgrave captured... or otherwise."

"Captured or otherwise" had been the exact words Logan had said to Kurt when his SHIELD shadow had gotten the intel on where they needed to go.

"Personally, I hope that 'otherwise' happens and that it's your doing," said Peter, giving Kurt's shoulders a squeeze. " _Officially_ , of course, it's our _duty_ to bring him in using as much _non-lethal_ force as _possible_ ," he said in a slightly louder voice. "But y'know. We might be forced to defend ourselves using whatever means necessary."

Kurt cracked a smile at that. "I'll try and restrain myself."

"That's good," said Peter in the louder voice. " _But not too much_ ," he whispered as he started walking, Kurt still under his arm.

Sin and Natasha were already in the hangar waiting for them, a jet ready and waiting behind them.

"Ready to play, boys?" Sin asked. She twirled a knife idly in her fingers before tucking it back into its sheath on her thigh.

"Let's go take care of that piece of trash," Peter said.

"That's an insult to trash," Kurt said as they climbed the ramp into the jet. Logan had given them someone he said was their best pilot — a tall Native American man named Harry Tabeshaw who had a wicked sense of humor — and Natasha settled herself into the co-pilot seat as Sin joined her in the jump seat near the cockpit. Peter and Kurt strapped themselves into seats in the hold.

"Ladies and gentlemen, today's flight to the illustrious Capitol is brought to you by the probable capture and possible death of one Zebediah Kilgrave," Peter said. "Please keep all weapons stowed until it's murder time — sorry, fight time — and then feel free to move about the battlefield." The jet's engines fired up with a low rumble, and the plane shifted as it lifted off the ground. "Our flight today is expected to uneventful, but here at Secret Child Army Airlines, we always entertain the possibility of a deadly attack, so sit back, relax, and enjoy your flight!"

"Practicing for his job after the war," Sin said, her snickers muffled by the hum of the engines as the plane left the hangar.

The mood of the flight was subdued, but Kurt didn't realize that no one had spoken for a while until Peter reached over and touched his arm gently. "Hey, you're looking a little… uh… tense, Kurt."

Kurt glanced up sharply and realized that his face was arranged into a scowl and his shoulders had crept up towards his ears. He quickly relaxed both his posture and expression.

"Well, I didn't say you had to _stop_ ," Peter said, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It might be good to have that rage fuel; I just didn't want you to go into a swordfight all tense and sore."

"Thanks, Pete," Kurt said with a gentle sigh. "I just…"

"You just want to kill this guy already, because he got in the head and messed with the mind of your _truuuuue loooove_ ," Peter said. "I know; I read you loud and clear. This'll all be over soon."

"Kate's not my..." Kurt began. "I mean, I… she's…" Judging by the heat he could feel rising up his face and the smirk that was rapidly growing on Peter's, his protestations were falling on deaf ears.

"Everyone's seen you making goo-goo eyes," Sin called from the cockpit without turning around. "And anyone who even remotely glanced at you two spending time together in the Capitol could see where you stand." There was only the barest hint of teasing in her voice before she dropped it again. "We'll get her head on right. Don't worry. I'll make sure of it."

Peter reached over and wrapped Kurt in a tight hug. Kurt let his head rest on Peter's shoulder and sighed. "Thanks, guys. I needed that."

Peter kept one arm snug around Kurt's shoulders for the rest of the flight, and Kurt didn't mind one bit.

When the plane began to descend through the dark night sky, Natasha began going over their plan, even though they all knew it by heart. It was some kind of nerves thing, Kurt decided, even though he doubted Natasha was the nervous type. A way to keep herself in control of the situation before something big, then. It was good to have something to focus on as they dropped down outside the boundaries of the Capitol.

Their target was Kilgrave's personal residence. As far they figured, and from what intel they had, he'd wanted to remain where the living was lush, but he hadn't been seen out in public much lately. Security would probably be high, but that was Natasha's skill set, and Kurt wasn't worried.

"Information is our ultimate goal," said Natasha. "Whether that means we take him back to base and interrogate him there… or get information while we're here and do what we need to do with him once he's told us all we need to know."

"Got it," Peter said as the group of them moved out.

At least there was one good thing about the Capitol: it wasn't surrounded by a fence like the other districts were. Or, perhaps, not a physical one — why would any of the residents want to leave the luxury and lavishness of their lives?

'Luxury' and 'lavishness' were not quite the words Kurt would still use to describe the Capitol, though. The streets were no longer full of colorful denizens strolling around like they had all the time in the world, which made it easier for them to sneak from alleyway to alcove as they crept through the quiet streets. The city seemed washed out of color and life.

Funny how the Capitol citizens reacted when what was almost the Avenger Games was taking place in their own backyard. "The revolution will not be televised," he said softly as they walked.

Kilgrave's house was opulent, but it did not stand out much among his neighbors', apart from the purple trim along the windows.

"No taste," Peter mumbled as he prowled along the front edge of the house, checking for motion sensors or cameras. When he reached the front door, he placed a hand on the doorknob and attempted to turn it. It was locked.

"Can we just bust it down?" Sin suggested.

"Well, we could, but there's an alarm that detects fire as well as forced entry, so the Sentinels would be here before you can blink."

Natasha was already stepping up to the door. She pulled a flat wallet out of her belt and selected a couple tools. "Allow me," she said, kneeling down so that she was at eye level with the lock.

Within a minute, she reached up and turned the handle. The door swung open noiselessly. Natasha stoop up, tucked her tools away, and beckoned them onward.

Kurt, Sin, and Peter followed her into the dark interior. It was extremely quiet inside. A clock ticked somewhere, and something electric hummed a few floors down. Natasha shut the door behind them, and everyone donned night-vision goggles. The rooms were now displayed brightly, albeit in shades of lurid green. Natasha signaled for them to split off as they had planned. Kurt and Peter headed for the upper floor, while the girls went to search the ground floor.

Their first room was a guest room of some kind. A bed, dresser, desk, and chair were the only things inside, and they hadn't been used in a while. The bedclothes were smooth and crisp.

"At least they're not dusty," Peter whispered. "That would be worrisome."

They moved on to the next room, which was a much more opulent bedroom. This one looked much more lived in, if not a little messy. Several items of clothing were draped over the back of a chair. The bedclothes were rumpled, not tossed like the bed had been vacated in a hurry, but still in disarray.

As they moved further down the hall, Peter threw out an arm and pointed further ahead. Flickering light was spilling out from behind a slightly-open door, like a fire was burning in the room. Kurt drew his swords and padded noiselessly down the hallway, rolling his feet from heel to toe gently as he walked. He peered in through the couple of inches already open and saw one wall of a small library with a fireplace set into the wall. There was a fire blazing brightly in the hearth and a chair silhouetted by the flames.

Someone was in the chair.

The back of the chair was facing Kurt, so he couldn't actually see the occupant's face, but there was only one person it could be.

Kurt reached up and touched a tiny button on his earpiece three times.

 _Target located._

Kurt glanced over at Peter, who placed one hand on the door. _All yours,_ he mouthed.

Kurt held up three fingers. Peter nodded.

 _Three… two… one._

Peter threw the door wide open and Kurt sprinted into the room. Kilgrave barely had time to turn around, let alone get out of his seat, before Kurt was there, grabbing him by the neck of his purple suit and tossing him bodily to the floor. Kurt pressed a foot on his back and the tip of a sword to his neck.

The whole affair took maybe three seconds.

Kilgrave groaned, which turned into a short chuckle. "I was wondering when someone would come after me." He glanced up from where his head was turned to the side, trying to recognize his assailant. Thankfully, though, Kurt's features were shrouded by a hood and his goggles. "And who are you? One of my old projects, come to pay me a visit?" Kurt said nothing, but Kilgrave's gaze traced along the portion of the sword he could see from his awkward vantage point. "Or perhaps… hmm. Someone near and dear to you was?" Kurt could see Sin and Natasha arrive in the doorway out of the corner of his eye, but they did not enter the room. It was all him.

Kurt opened the little box in his mind.

"Second time's the charm," Kurt said, his voice emotionless. "And I'd really like to be able to talk to her again, so let's you and I have a little chat about how that might happen." He took his foot off Kilgrave's back in order to kneel down, keeping one of his swords just brushing the back of Kilgrave's neck.

Kurt looked down at Kilgrave. "Here's how this is going to work. You did something to Kate Bishop. I want you to tell me how to undo it. Anything and everything that could help. If you lie to me — and I will know if you lie to me — I will hurt you. If you try _anything_ , I will hurt you. And if you are very, _very_ helpful and extremely lucky, I won't leave your body rent limb from limb on the floor. Because believe me: I have been envisioning _exactly_ how I would do that ever since I learned who was responsible for messing up Kate's head."

Kilgrave looked a lot less smug all of a sudden. He took a measured breath. "You think you have all the answers," he said. "But you're placing the blame in the wrong place. _I_ only built on what was already there. I was only doing my _job."_

Kurt narrowed his eyes. He kept his sword pressed against Kilgrave's neck before he used his second sword to cut a long slash across the man's cheekbone. "I know you were her handler. I told you not to lie to me."

Kilgrave winced, though he didn't dare move very much from where he was. "It wasn't a lie!" he insisted. "We took the trauma of the Games and used it to break into her mind. If you want to blame someone, talk to Nick Fury!"

"He's dead," Kurt said in that same nearly emotionless and dangerous tone as before. "And you will be too if you don't start talking."

"Daniel Whitehall—"

"Is also dead," Kurt said. "A friend of mine did it — and already told me about his methods. I'm not asking about him or Fury. I'm asking you to _tell me what you did_." At that last part, Kurt decided to make his threat more real and simply plunged his other sword into Kilgrave's side. It wouldn't kill him, but it left the man hurt and howling.

And, of course, it also made him a lot more talkative.

Suddenly, he was a well of information, not only confirming what Wade had already said about the "compliance" commands that Whitehall used but explaining how it had been his job to isolate Kate, to cut any ties or friendships she might have had until she was solely reliant on Hydra.

On him.

When Kurt didn't say anything or lash out at anything he said, Kilgrave almost seemed to get more confident. Almost … _boasting._

It took every ounce of self-control Kurt had not to kill the man in front of him before he had worn himself out on the information front, but what he was hearing…

He talked about how Hydra had chosen him as Kate's handler for a _reason_. How they knew she was fiercely loyal and thrived on her friendships and affections. How he was reputed to be particularly efficient in manipulating young women — and it was there that Kurt caught the almost crooked, cocky expression on his face.

The way Kilgrave said the word "affections" had Kurt's blood boiling, but he somehow managed not to kill him just then. And that seemed to signal to Kilgrave that Kurt was too shocked to kill him, too hurt.

Maybe Kilgrave thought he could get out of his predicament by leaving Kurt too angry to _act_. Maybe that was why he started to get a lot more detailed, a lot more boastful.

As Kilgrave talked, Kurt glanced over to his compatriots in the doorway. Natasha was typing furiously on a wrist computer, taking down every detail that made Kurt want to throw up.

Kilgrave finally stopped hemorrhaging information when he had moved on from _useful_ intel to simply gloating over his _conquest_ — a word that left Kurt even more ill than before. And that prompted Kurt to drive his other sword down Kilgrave's side.

Kilgrave quickly stopped his bragging and screamed before he started to pant and look more nervous than before. "That's everything, I swear, I swear, I've told you everything I know!"

Kurt stood up, keeping his sword on Kilgrave's neck. He glanced over at Natasha and Sin. They both nodded, confirming what they knew.

"I believe you, which makes me horrified," Kurt said. He lifted the sword off of Kilgrave's neck. The man visibly relaxed and began maneuvering his arms to push himself up off the floor.

Kurt twirled his fingers on the blade of his sword, switching his grip, then plunged the blade straight down through Kilgrave's right shoulder with every bit of muscle and strength he had. Kurt heard the scapula crack as the blade sank through the man's body and into the floor. Kilgrave screamed in pain.

"You said you'd let me go if I was honest!" he sputtered, trying desperately to look up at Kurt.

"I said if you were helpful _and lucky_ ," Kurt said calmly. "You aren't a very lucky man."

Kurt's other sword flashed.

Kilgrave's head was finally able to turn toward Kurt, though his body remained where it had been — pinned to the ground by Kurt's blade.

And Kurt sank to the floor, suddenly exhausted as his supply of anger-fueled adrenaline finally ran out.

Peter rushed in, pulling Kurt back to his feet and away from the pool of blood rapidly spreading onto the floor.

"Kurt, that was insane," he said. There was awe in his voice, as well as a tinge of fear. "Let's get out of here."

"Yes," Kurt agreed. "Good plan." He reached out and snagged the sword that stuck up through Kilgrave's body as Peter led him past it and out of the room.

Somehow, they made it back to the jet unnoticed.

"I had no idea you could be so _terrifying_ ," Sin said appreciatively as they climbed the ramp and got settled in their seats. "You're usually so squishy and sweet."

"Good to know where my reputation stands," Kurt said dryly as he buckled his harness with clumsy fingers. "I'm just… going to crash until we get back."

And he did, dreaming of crashing through Kate's door and sweeping her into the biggest hug of her life.


	20. Chapter 20: Thicker Than Blood

**(A/N): Happy Friday everyone! We're excited to bring you back to the high drama of District Four with InDeepDarkWood's Wonder Woman!**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who have reviewed as well as to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for continuing to be the best reviewers :) We loved seeing Kurt let loose too!**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty - Thicker Than Blood**

 **Night, SHIELD base, District Twelve**

 **Diana Prince of District Four**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood.**

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" _To put the world right in order, we must first put the nation in order; to put the nation in order, we must first put the family in order; to put the family in order, we must first cultivate our personal life; we must first set our hearts right." - Confucius_

* * *

Every time Diana closed her eyes, she saw a flash. Sometimes, flashes were adrenaline-filled and she was hunting and the world seemed to make sense. She could sleep when those occurred. It was the other flashes, of Jonathan Crane dripping blood onto her face, of the look of half-surprise on Harper Row's face, of Helena Wayne dodging her lasso ... those were the flashes that clung to her.

When the flashes came, and she could not sleep, she tried to think of other things, since idleness had never helped, even before the Games. She had never been one to just sit; if she couldn't _do_ something, then she _thought_ something.

Kaldur had told her after their rescue mission that she needed rest, and while she was disinclined to agree with him, she had to admit he had a point. She hadn't rested, _truly_ rested, since before she had been Reaped.

"There is no time for resting," Diana muttered to herself, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I can rest in the Elysian Fields." An uncomfortable thought struck her as she stood, making her legs feel weak and threaten to buckle. _Is my final rest in the Fields? Will I be granted safe passage?_

It was _not_ the thought that she had yearned for to keep her mind busy.

She decided it was better, for the first time in her life, not to think about anything, so she left her room and entered the hallway of the base, her feet carrying her down the familiar path toward the training room. The base was never fully quiet; even in the nighttime, there was always the pitter-patter of feet from people who tried to be kind toward those still sleeping.

Though she'd only been there a short time, she recognized a few faces of those that were active at this time of night. She nodded at a woman she was almost certain had been her pilot. Usually, however, people recognized _her_ first, and Diana had to quickly assess whether they knew her from the Games or they had actually spoken in person.

The training room she preferred was deserted, and a wave of calm washed over her as the footsteps faded away, and her own footfalls became muffled on the padded floor. Diana paused, looking around the room to see if there was something to pique her interests. It was a little different from the training center in the Games; here, there were archery targets, the arrows weighted depending on what type they were simulating — base operators were certainly not foolish enough to have the actual explosive arrows in such an enclosed space. Beside the archery, however, there were gun targets. Diana had been practicing in that area since she had arrived back from Two, knowing it was a weak point and knowing how valuable it could be in the real world.

She didn't really want to shoot anything, though. She wanted to throw something and forget about her thoughts for a little while. Her gaze caught the large tires in the corner, propped up against the wall, and Clark Kent's face swam into her memory. A small part of her heart clenched tightly, and she marched over to the tires, her mouth set in a grim, determined line. Heavy lifting had definitely been a source of stress-relief for Diana on more than one occasion.

She selected the mid-sized tire, rolling it off the wall and allowing it to fall to the mat with a dull thud. She pushed up her sleeves to the elbow, and, after a few stretches up and down, steeled her lower body for the extra weight. Diana heaved, leaning deep into her heels, and the tire easily went up and over itself, another thud announcing its return to the ground.

Diana repeated the action, remembering to breathe. _No idea where Clark is._ The tire rolled. _No idea if the children that we saved have lasting damage._ She took another long breath, hauling the tire across the room. _No idea if Mother lives._ The tire crashed harder than before. _No idea if Donna breathes._ She reached the far side of the room and turned around, starting the cycle again. _No idea if Four is free._

She paused when she reached her original starting point, stripped off the long-sleeved garment, and then began again, feeling the little bits of sweat start to collect at her collarbones. _Is Logan going to allow us to return?_ She let out a low grunt and moved the tire a little quicker, trying to will the thoughts away. _I can only wonder if Kara lives still._ She had seen neither hide nor hair of Kara since her face lit up the sky back in the arena, and she was not one of the children they had rescued. She had asked about Kara's fate and learned only that she was working with her sister, a SHIELD agent. And yet the details of her mission, the more important question of whether her mission was successful, whether she survived each day — that was better answered if she could only see Kara in the flesh.

 _You are not thinking about the bigger picture,_ a little voice whispered.

"Get out of my head, Borsson," Diana said through gritted teeth, slamming the tire down.

 _You have taken your eyes off what you were truly meant to do in favor of lambs that do not matter in this world._ Diana's upper lip curled at the thoughts in her head.

"I am a leader," she muttered to herself, not looking up as footsteps came into the training area. "I am prioritizing what is _right_."

She didn't know if she was justifying her actions to herself or to the phantom Odin that plagued her thoughts, but her mind was certainly not settling down. Her stomach dropped as his words brought her thoughts back to Four and the fight they were waging against the true enemy.

Bruce Wayne had made her see that Four was full of warriors, but he was not from Four. He had _no_ business thinking that all of _her_ people were warriors. _Donna._ Her breath caught in her throat, and she nearly stumbled onto the tire. She leaned against it, struggling to breathe normally.

"Damn you to Hades, Son of Bor," she growled, for all she could see was her little sister on the ground beneath Antiope's boot. _Innocence lost._ She hated Odin for making her see the true nature of the war that was waging in her district's borders.

"You should not speak that way of the All-Father."

Diana glanced up from the tire to see Thor standing a few feet away. "For such a large man, you make little noise. I didn't hear your approach, only your entrance." She took a long, deep breath, and settled her shoulders, throwing off the care of her thoughts in favor of the conversation.

Thor snorted. "You seem surprised, Diana."

"I am."

Thor threw back his head and laughed at the bluntness. "I think now I understand why you and my father had moments of discord," he said. And then, at Diana's look of further surprise, he waved one hand to the side. "Kaldur's words, not my own."

"Kaldur is too kind with his words," Diana muttered, standing straight and stretching out her back.

"Perhaps," Thor said, the traces of his laugh still evident on his face as he went over to the wall and selected a tire for himself. He rolled it over to land beside Diana's, flashing her a smile, "But as to what I said before: I believe it is only Odin's children that are allowed to damn him." His blond hair fell across his face as he bent down and began to fling the tire toward the far wall.

Diana watched him, her hand hovering on her own tire. _Unite our district with others, Odinsdottir._ How had he expected her to do that? Odin himself was at the base. She knew she had seen him when Logan had met with all of them what seemed an age ago. Yet he had made no move to see her, and she had kept herself busy enough that she didn't need to see him. She and Thor were on the same _team_ , and nothing had changed.

She hauled the tire forward, moving quickly. She thought Thor was taking his time, waiting for her, since she herself was no fool, and knew she would not have caught up with him elsewise.

"Before you feel the need to speak, Diana, remember: I'm not known for wise council — only rushing in to battle hot-headed," Thor said, seeing her intake of breath. "I am just as happy to stand beside you silently. You have seemed a little lost since our travels to Two. I simply thought you might appreciate company in a second tire-thrower."

She swallowed the words she had been about to say. Thor was offering her a way of escape. This giant of a man never had to know their ties, only to presume that if and when she decided to pursue leadership, it was as Hippolyta's daughter.

 _I am no lamb,_ Diana thought, moving the tire ahead of Thor. _What sort of leader would I be to be so dishonest toward my own blood?_

"Thor, son of Odin." She looked back at him. "Do you ever think of those you have killed?"

"A little," Thor admitted. "Not much, not anymore. I don't think it wise to wallow in self-pity and guilt. I was once reckless, and did not make any effort to show any intelligent thought. I blamed myself for what I had to do to try and live." He paused, flashing her a far more muted smile. "I know I'm still reckless, but I do not blame myself. I don't think about my own death, either; that only makes me angry, and I don't think when I'm angry."

"I think you have a little more wisdom than you believe, Odinson," Diana said.

"Now it is you being too kind with—"

"—I am your kin," Diana blurted out before her mind could stop her mouth.

There was a loud thud as Thor's tire careened ahead of them, and he stood stock still. Diana thought the expression on his face suited her previous assessment of an 'all brawn, no brain' tribute. She almost lifted her hand in front of her mouth, but stopped herself. She was not that silly little girl.

"What?" Thor asked, frowning as he turned to face her fully. "Are you sure?"

"Odin sent me a letter in the Games," she said with a nod.

"Of course he did," Thor said in a breath as he rested his hands at his hips. "He has always had a flair for the dramatic. I suppose I should wonder if Loki really was adopted…considering the drama and the dark … hair … " He trailed off, looking away for a moment.

"I'm sorry that I said nothing until now," Diana said, crossing her arms.

"Sorry?" Thor asked, his voice booming like his father's did on occasion. _Their father._ "Why should you apologize?" His face broke out into the wide grin he wore so well, and he closed the gap between them, picking her up into a tight hug. Her crossed arms made it all the tighter, and for the first time in many years, Diana's feet were dangling inches from the ground.

"This is _great_ news, sister!" Thor exclaimed, setting her down. "Am I the last to know? I would not be surprised. I usually _am_ last to know these things." Diana took a moment to take a breath, but he continued to speak before she could reply. "Does Kaldur know? Does our father know that you have told me? We should celebrate. This is the best news I have had since my revival."

"I find that difficult to believe," Diana put in, "but our celebrations must wait. We have a bigger picture to focus on. I thought that my duty was giving aid to Marvel, but I realize now that it is folly to leave Four without aid simply because there are those in our families who can fight."

"We can do more for Marvel with a strong Four than we can with only a handful of SHIELD agents in Twelve," Thor said in agreement.

"Then we are agreed." Diana turned away, picking up the tire and resuming her activity. Thor followed suit, and a quiet fell between them again for a time, broken by the tires hitting the ground and the low grunts that occasionally slipped out.

"Water?" Diana asked eventually, as the tires fell into the original spots. Her whole body felt slick with sweat, but she had achieved what she had been trying to do with her thoughts. Her mind did not feel like the maelstrom it once was; instead, the feeling was similar to the half-hearted sails on a calm day at sea.

Thor nodded, following her out of the training room and down toward the kitchen area. "You don't seem quite so lost, little sister," he observed as she passed him a cup of water, gulping her own down quickly and refilling.

"Your agreement has made me feel more like I'm doing the right thing, wishing to return to Four," Diana replied. "Sometimes, it is hard to know."

"That is why I shy away from the leadership that our father so often desired for me. I know I can do more without that burden weighing on my shoulders." Thor was nodding to himself as he drank.

Diana recalled the way he had stepped back on their mission to Two. "You don't wish to follow in Odin's footsteps?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice. "You don't wish for the… glory of leadership?"

Thor shook his head, letting out another small laugh. "That is not the role for me. I _thought_ it was, but I have come to realize that I am not the man to unite our district." He filled up his cup and drank some more. "However, blood bond or not, I was nearly certain from your Reaping that you were the woman to support, and knowing now that you are not _just_ Amazonian makes you even more likely to achieve what our parents could not do alone."

Diana let a small smile slip out at the words.

"You can unite Four, Diana. And you'll have me at your side to guide you through the rough seas that our Asgardian brothers and sisters thrive in." He broke off, giving her a rueful smile. "We are a difficult clan at times — but I can help you with that, and Kaldur would be more than happy to be your advisor for the Atlanteans. And between the three of us — uniting the district — we can give support to our neighbors. Help them to defend their borders as well."

"Kaldur would likely simply oppose _any_ of my regimens," Diana said. She sipped her cup again, trying to hide the growing smile and forcing her heart rate to remain steady. She was not one to flush; she was _not_ that silly girl.

"I think you'll find you work rather well together," Thor noted, an eyebrow raising slightly. "I know our father would give this his blessing. Seeing one of Arthur's divers at your side will ease the Atlanteans' pain of working with us."

"We must go to Odin first, then," Diana said, setting the cup down, "before we bring our objective to Logan."

"What of Kaldur?" Thor asked, as Diana marched out of the kitchen and back down toward the sleeping areas. She altered course slightly.

"You are correct; Kaldur is an important piece of this game," she said. "I know where he sleeps."

"Well, he's certainly important," Thor responded, putting an elbow in Diana's side. She kept her footing and didn't break stride, shooting him a look. "Little sister, we are kin now! It's my job to say and do certain things to ensure that your honor is upheld."

Diana rolled her eyes as they reached Kaldur's door.

"Steady," Thor whispered. "It is the middle of the night; do you really wish to face the wrath of a sleep-deprived diver?"

She looked back at Thor, her hand raised. _Return to Four. Unite our people. Free Marvel. Stop the flashes._ She knocked sharply on the door.

"I can take his wrath and vinegar. We have a job to do, brother."


	21. Chapter 21: Plans for the Future

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! This time, we're bringing you Unlucky Alis' amazing Kory Anders, because we're on a warrior princess kick, mkay?**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed and to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being awesome and continuing to support us and get hyped as the story goes on!**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-One - Plan for the Future You Might Not Get to See**

 **SHIELD Base, District Twelve**

 **Kory Anders of District Twelve**

 **Written by Unlucky Alis**

* * *

" _Yesterday is not ours to recover, but tomorrow is ours to win or lose." – Lyndon B. Johnson_

* * *

Sometimes, Kory missed wandering like she used to do. Just going out on her own and exploring places she never would have seen otherwise. She didn't have much time for it now, with how much was going on — fighting, training the kids, and training herself took up most of her time. Her time off was spent with the Titans and Dick's family — she still held a modicum of hostility towards Bruce, but he hadn't done anything else to make her mad, so she was willing to look past it.

Wandering the halls of SHIELD wasn't quite the same. It was less thrilling than slipping through the Seam of Twelve, lurking in the places she didn't belong. But without the looming threat of the Sentinels, it wasn't as satisfying as it used to be. Everything had changed so much.

Kory had gone out into Twelve twice since coming home. The first time, she didn't feel ready to _really_ go home and gave the merchant's district a wide berth. She went out with Dick and showed him all her favorite spots. The mines that she never got to explore but still wanted to; the rundown places that felt dangerous and daring before she experienced real danger, where the two of them stuck out like sore thumbs; the fence she almost climbed before the Games — the same fence that Kate climbed.

It was a pleasant day out. Dick only asked her once about her family — and then dropped the subject entirely when he saw the way her jaw clenched at their mention.

At the time, Kory hadn't wanted to face them, not yet. It wasn't really fair to her parents. They were good people who loved her, but there had always been a distance between them. Kory hadn't thought of them much since their goodbyes. Komander had occupied her mind plenty of times, though.

For her second foray out into the district, Kory had steeled her nerves and gone straight home.

* * *

 _Her feet carried her home without thought. Kory could probably find her way back to her family's shop from anywhere in the district. It used to be the center of her world, but now, it hovered on the fringes, an afterthought, a pale reminder of_ before _._

 _She hesitated on the street just outside the store. Normally, when coming home from one of her ventures, she would go up the stairs at the back and straight into the apartment above, traipsing past her parents and sister without a care. But this wasn't one of her little escapades and, in a startling moment of comprehension, she realized this was no longer her home._

 _The district would always be special to her, the land more than the people, but this house was too small for her now. After everything that happened, and with everything that was going on, she couldn't really imagine coming back here with the intention of staying._

 _Kory had a lot of questions about what would happen when the fighting was over, and none of the answers were to come back and take over her parents' business._

 _And there was always the question of Komander._

 _Kory closed her eyes and shook her head, as if she could cast away all thoughts of her sister. She didn't want to see her parents for the first time since the Reaping while she was angry. Squaring her shoulders, she marched up to the front door and strode inside, the bell chiming as the door swung open. She glided down the center aisle, ignoring the luxuries that stocked the shelves. Luxuries for Twelve, at least. The soft fabrics and flavorful dressings the Anders family stocked paled in comparison to anything from the Capitol._

 _Locking her gaze on the back counter, Kory saw her mother, Lu, taking candles from a box and arranging them next to the register. There was a heaviness to her, in the sag of her shoulders, the way she kept her head bowed, even as she straightened up to move the box off the counter._

 _Kory worried her lip. She wasn't sure what to say. What was she supposed to say to her mother after surviving the Avenger Games, joining SHIELD, and avoiding home for far too long for it to be considered an honest mistake?_

 _Not to mention the whole 'my boyfriend was dead, but it's okay because he has a new body now' thing._

 _Whatever inadequate thing Kory was going to say, it all slipped from her mind when Lu looked up and froze, the box slipping in her grip. Lu recovered at the last second, her hands jerking down to follow the box as it fell, catching the edge before it could crash to the floor._

" _Kory," she said, eyes glistening. She rushed towards Kory and tossed the box onto the counter with a little too much force. The box slid across the counter, teetering off the edge, and crashed to the floor the same moment Lu pulled Kory into a crushing hug._

" _What happened to you? When the Games ended like that, we thought you were dead." Her mother's voice trembled as she squeezed even tighter._

 _She shouldn't have come. That was all Kory could think while her mother held her. There were times when she felt closer to her teachers than her parents, but her mother obviously didn't think the same. Seeing Kory in the Games had taken a toll on Lu. For Kory, seeing Lu struggling to hold back her tears made her realize there was something cruel about visiting now._

 _Kory had no intentions of just abandoning her parents and never seeing them again, but it felt like they were in completely different worlds, galaxies away. There was a chance Kory could die fighting for SHIELD before the war ended. If that happened, her parents would be losing her twice. She should have waited._

" _Your father will be so happy you're home," Lu said. "And your sister. Oh, Komander hasn't been the same. She's been throwing herself into working at the store, trying to distract herself. She's so distraught."_

 _Kory ground her teeth, holding back a hiss of anger. Komander wasn't distraught. She was trying to take Kory's place. But that wasn't really her place anymore, was it?_

" _They're out right now, but they'll be back soon. I'll close the store, and we can wait for them," Lu said, finally letting Kory go and rushing to the front of the store._

 _Kory nodded, hugging herself. She felt cold now that her mother had stepped away. Letting out the deep breath she had been holding, Kory moved around the counter to clean up the candles that broke when they hit the floor, the thick chunks of wax scattered across the tile. She swept them back into the box and set it upright._

 _In her hand was a chunk of black wax. Curling her fingers around it, she dug her nails into the soft surface at its thinnest point until she cut straight through it. She needed to have a_ talk _with her sister._

* * *

Kory slowed to a stop as she was drawn out of her ruminations. Someone was standing in her path just down the hall — a young man. He faced Kory on her side of the hall. If she hadn't slowed down, she probably would have run into him. Or she might not have noticed him at all. But there was something... _off_ about him, although she couldn't place what it was.

The man was admittedly handsome and looked somewhere around her age, give or take a couple years. Dressed in casual SHIELD wear — everyone had an outfit like his — there wasn't much of a reason for him to stand out, except that he wasn't moving. People were always moving in the base.

It wasn't in an eerie way, like he was holding himself so still he didn't even look alive. In fact, his stance was perfectly casual, like he just _happened_ to be standing there for no reason other than he could.

Kory caught his gaze and frowned. His eyes were bright green, not unlike her own.

The young man moved first, shifting his weight from one foot to the other before loping toward her. When he was a few meters away, he crossed to the other side of the hall. Kory thought he was going to pass without sparing her another glance; he had that sort of disinterested air about him. But when she turned her head to follow him, he looked back at her and flashed her a wide, almost manic grin.

It stretched across his face and showed a little too much white, like he was baring his teeth at her. Then, his head snapped forward again, and he continued on his way, swaggering along until he rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

Kory's frown remained firmly on her lips. She knew that she was missing something, something important. She could almost taste it on the tip of her tongue. Before she could dwell on it for much longer, a familiar voice called out to her.

"Kory Anders!"

Kory's eyes widened in surprise as she turned to face the voice. Noh-Varr, white hair and all, was crossing the hall in long strides, smiling pleasantly at her. One thing Kory could say with absolute certainty was that she never expected to see her former stylist again, especially not the _SHIELD base_ _in_ _Twelve_.

"What are you doing here?" Kory asked, realizing a moment later how rude that sounded. "I mean, it is most wonderful to see you again, Noh-Varr."

She met him halfway, absently wondering how he would react if she hugged him. Their interactions in the Capitol had been limited, but Kory liked him, and she hugged people she liked. So that's what she did… and she was pleasantly surprised when he not only hugged her back but spun her around enthusiastically.

"Why _are_ you here?" Kory asked when she pulled away. "I am sorry, but I did not take you for a fighter."

"You would be surprised. I'm here because not everyone living in the Capitol was on the Capitol's side. People underestimate stylists, and some of us have been with SHIELD for a long time, getting information on Hydra," Noh-Varr explained.

Kory was suitably impressed. It never failed to amaze her how spread out this side of SHIELD was. The resources weren't a surprise — SHIELD _was_ originally the military of the Capitol — but until her rescue, Kory just thought of its members as a different kind of Capitolite. Pleased with their place in the world and overly weaponized.

Sometimes, it was really easy to forget that lots of people living the Capitol — most of them, probably — were _just_ people. Lucky enough to be born in the lap of luxury, unfortunate enough to be raised into a colorful, mindless throng content with their bloody entertainment and opulent lifestyle.

And then, there were the people like Noh-Varr and the real SHIELD. Kory didn't know if Noh-Varr was born and raised in the Capitol, but she assumed he was. She _hoped_ he was, because it would mean there were other 'normal' Capitolites that could see what was wrong with the world.

Until she saw Kate Bishop fighting in the previous Games, Kory wasn't so different from some of the Capitolites. Pleased with the benefits of her family's station, resigned to the state of her district. But not anymore.

"What are you doing now?" Kory asked.

Noh-Varr grinned, swaying the way he did when he was listening to a good song. "Jubilee and I are getting married."

It took Kory a second to remember who that was — Dick's stylist in the bright yellow jacket. A grin broke out across her face. "Congratulations. When are you getting married?"

"As soon as we can find the right moment… and someone to officiate the ceremony," Noh-Varr said. "There's probably someone around here who can do it."

"You will not be waiting until... after?" Kory spoke tentatively.

Noh-Varr understood what she meant, and his smile softened as he answered her. "In war, it's not wise to wait for peace to bring you happiness. Not when you might just lose that someone you seek happiness with."

Kory nodded slowly, turning Noh-Varr's words over in her head.

"Speaking of Jubilee, I was on my way to see her. It was nice seeing you again, Kory. Remember what I said." With a parting wave, Noh-Varr headed off in search of his fiancée.

Kory resumed her walk, running her fingers through her hair. Noh-Varr and Jubilee were getting married. In the middle of a war seemed like the worst time for such an occasion, but Noh-Varr made an excellent point. The idea of forever was nice, but it was not a guarantee when there were so many things that could cut it short.

Her fingers caught on a loose knot, and she proceeded to untangle it. Marriage wasn't something she used to think about. She never really pictured any of her old trysts being anything more than that. And yet, if there was one person she would ever consider marrying, it would be Dick. She couldn't imagine losing him twice or leaving him behind.

There were a lot of things she needed to think about.

* * *

 _Kory and Lu were sitting at the dining room table when Mya and Komander returned home. Kory's hands were wrapped around a mug of coffee. It was more than cool enough to drink now, but she hadn't even taken a sip yet. She needed to prepare herself._

 _Lu meant for Kory's arrival to be a surprise. She wanted her husband and daughter to walk in and see Kory the same way she had, but as soon as she heard the backdoor opening, she was up on her feet._

" _Lu? Why's the store closed?" Mya called._

" _Kory's home!" Lu answered._

 _Mya's response was immediate. His heavy steps thudded down the hall, and he burst into the dining room. He didn't even take his shoes off._

" _My little star!" Mya shouted, sweeping Kory into a hug. Despite Mya being stronger than his wife, hiss hug was gentle. It was all about warmth and relief, not the same clinging desperation as Lu's. Kory allowed herself a moment to sink into the embrace before stepping back and peering around her father._

 _Komander stood in the doorway, a heavy scowl marring her face. She was openly glaring at Kory, although her expression quickly smoothed out when Lu grabbed her eldest and dragged her to the table._

" _You can't imagine how much we worried," Mya said, guiding Kory to the chair opposite Komander's. "I tried talking to my connections in the other districts and the Capitol to get some news, but I couldn't even reach them."_

 _Kory frowned. "No, I would imagine not."_

" _You can't imagine how worried we were," Lu repeated her husband's words. "What happened? Where have you been?"_

" _That doesn't matter. All that matters is that she's back. The family business is still yours to inherit." Mya grinned proudly down at Kory. Komander started to rise, but Lu's hand on her shoulder kept her seated. Kory met her sister's hateful stare and refused to look away first._

 _She decided it wasn't a mistake. What she had to say next might break her parents' hearts, but she couldn't put off seeing Komander._

" _I am not back," Kory said._

 _From beside Komander, Lu blinked. She leaned forward and reached across the table, taking Kory's hand. "What do you mean?"_

" _I_ am _back. But I will not be staying here," Kory continued. "There are things I need to do, and I cannot do that from here. I am sorry."_

" _What's going on, Kory?" Mya's large hand dropped onto her shoulder, squeezing gently. Kory was forced to drag her gaze away from Komander so she could reply in earnest._

" _Things are changing. I am still in Twelve, for now. I am staying with my boyfriend, Dick." She didn't think it would be a good idea to tell her parents about SHIELD. Kory took her hand back from her mother and patted her father's hand before lifting it off her shoulder. "You would have seen him in the Games."_

 _Komander's eyebrow quirked, and she crossed her arms. "Wasn't he killed by that crazy guy? Kory, are you sure you're alright?"_

 _A sickly-sweet tone was laced through her words, sounding anything but sincere to Kory's ears. Her parents were oblivious._

" _Oh, honey, you've been through so much," Lu said. "Just come home."_

 _Kory sighed. "I intend to visit if I have time. I would very much like to bring Dick with me next time, as he is a wonderful young man. But I am most afraid that I cannot come home. I am sorry. I should be heading back soon."_

" _Kory," Lu pleaded._

 _Mya, however, was examining his youngest daughter. He could not deny that there was something different about her. She had always had a fiery spirit, but she wasn't the same sweet, little star anymore._

" _You would have done well with the business," he said._

 _Kory smiled. "I am certain I would have. Kammie will be sufficient."_

 _She felt a burning satisfaction when Komander bristled at her words, her jaw tensing, her fists clenching beneath the table. Kory just smiled._

" _I would like a moment to speak to my dear older sister, please," she said._

 _Mya nodded and rose from his seat. "We should reopen the store."_

 _Lu looked uncertain, but after a reassuring smile from Kory and a half-hearted pat on the arm from Komander, she stood up as well. As soon as the elder Anders were out of the room, the atmosphere shifted._

 _Kory's easy smile melted off her face, replaced with a dark scowl. She folded her arms on the tabletop, her knuckles white. Komander's glare returned in full force and she sat up straighter in her seat, tilting her chin up._

" _Seeing your boyfriend die must have been so terrible. Then again, you were not awake when it happened, right? So close, but unable to help."_

 _Kory's anger spiked, but she did her best to ignore the barb. She stretched out her aching fingers and tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Your last words to me were that I had not been a worthy opponent for you. I am sorry to have disappointed you back then. Please, let me fix that."_

 _Kory was up and lunging across the table as soon as she finished speaking. Komander reeled back, rolling out of her chair and away from Kory's vicious charge. She grabbed the chair and swung it around, and Kory was forced to duck, but she didn't stop her advance. She slid under Komander's swing and kicked out, connecting with her sister's ankles._

 _Komander yelped as her legs were forced apart and her balance was thrown. She gripped the counter behind her and jumped up to avoid Kory's next kick, dancing away to put some distance between them. Kory refused to let that distance grow beyond a few feet._

 _Fighting Komander was nothing like training with Dick. Komander didn't have proper training, but she was skilled in her own right. Rather than a dancing give and take of blows, it was a fast and brutal chase._

 _Komander was an adequate fighter; Kory was better. She threw herself at Komander, wrapping her arms around her sister's torso so they both went tumbling to the floor. Komander's head smacked against the cabinet, and she struggled to escape Kory's grip._

 _It was useless._

 _Kory pinned Komander to the floor, one arm across her throat. She only put enough weight down to keep Komander from properly catching her breath, especially with most of Kory's weight pressing down on her chest._

" _My final courtesy to you,_ sister _, is to release you from your own deception," Kory hissed. She leaned down, positive she was wearing a truly ugly expression, and grabbed Komander's chin, forcing her to keep her gaze forward. "You thought I was not a good enough opponent for you. You failed to consider that you are so far beneath me,_ you _are not worthy of being_ my _adversary. Calling someone like you my enemy is a waste of breath."_

 _Kory punched the tile next to Komander's head, making her flinch, and rose to her feet. She straightened out her hair, smoothed the wrinkles from her clothes, and brushed her thumb along a forming bruise on her cheek._

 _No matter; she had had worse._

 _Komander lay on the dining room floor, her chest heaving as she gasped for air, eyes wide and wild._

 _Kory left the house without looking back._

* * *

Kory stopped again, closing her eyes and dropping her arms at her sides. She took a deep breath and held it as long as she could before slowly letting it out. If she really wanted to look to the future, there were some things from her past she had to let go of.

Her version of letting go just happened to involve a healthy dose of righteous fury and a cathartic beatdown.

Kory opened her eyes and grinned, feeling a little better than before.

"We are done, _sister_ ," she hissed into the empty hall. Now Ivy was all that was left.


	22. Chapter 22: You Can't Handle the Truth

**(A/N): Happy Friday! And happy end of November! This chapter has a loooooooong overdue reunion, so we're pretty happy about it.**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed as well as to SlimSummers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being stalwart fans of ours and for enjoying the warrior princess trend ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Two - You Can't Handle the Truth**

 **Kate Bishop, formerly of District Twelve**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _If falling into desperation worked to make things better, then I would say, 'Let's all jump into despair.' But it doesn't help. The only way to truly find meaning and fulfillment is to look at the disaster, the pain, the difficulty, and know with complete certainty that good can come of this." -Yehuda Berg_

* * *

 _Susie had wanted short, summery bridesmaids dresses for her wedding, since it was the start of July. Kate loved the idea at the time, but now…_

 _Now, there was a Sentinel with his hands all over her talking about how_ sweet _she looked in her little skirt. One arm was pinned beneath her and the other was trapped by his knee, and all she could do was try to_ breathe _when he had an arm across her throat._

 _And then… then it wasn't a Sentinel at all but Kilgrave, leaning close enough that his five o'clock shadow bristled her cheek. His breath was hot as he whispered to her everything that Hydra knew about her, how they had so carefully chosen him as her handler and how_ pleased _he was with her performance._

 _She couldn't move, couldn't breathe…_

 _And then, suddenly, Kilgrave's almost gentle whisper turned to a low, rumbling growl, and Kate closed her eyes. Of course, she was dreaming, so that didn't keep her from seeing Victor Creed, a leering smile on his face, detailing everything that he had done to Silver Fox._

" _Lookin' forward to gettin' to know you a little better, frail," he told her, pressing harder on her throat until there were spots in her vision._

 _She couldn't_ breathe _._

With a start, Kate jerked awake, gasping, as she desperately pushed the covers away from her face. That sensation of being unable to breathe had been real — she'd been pulling her blankets tighter and tighter around herself in her sleep without realizing it. But the dreams that feeling had evoked…

Those were real too. Or, at least, they were based in reality.

She'd been having nightmares ever since SHIELD had decided the only way she could break free of her conditioning was to watch the footage of the Games and see for herself what had _actually_ happened — not just to Kurt but to Logan and everyone else. It was the clearest way they had to illustrate how completely she'd been lied to and used — even if Charles Xavier and Raven, his new apprentice, had been reluctant to show her the footage.

"Consider what we know now about Kilgrave's methods," Charles had argued — but of course, that wasn't holding much weight when SHIELD knew Kate would never believe anyone about the Games without concrete evidence.

She couldn't blame SHIELD for the angry, numb, _horrified_ feeling that had been following her ever since they sat her down with America to watch the whole thing (because America was an outside source of confirmation who had watched the Games and who Kate knew wasn't with SHIELD). She couldn't blame anyone but herself, because there was a part of her that, watching the footage, remembered that she had been suspicious of the video they'd sent her.

 _Should have listened to my gut._

Kate hadn't said anything since SHIELD had showed her what happened except a wordless glance America's way to get the confirmation she needed to know it was all true. All of it. She hadn't spoken a word to Charles or Raven; she didn't have the mental energy to muster up a conversation, if she was honest. It was too much to process all at once.

She didn't know what to feel, and she kept cycling through the emotions like she was spinning in a storm and couldn't find ground.

A large part of it was horror, of course. Horror at the way the Capitol had manipulated her to turn against her ally, the way they had clearly been setting her up to either kill Logan or to be the final nail in the coffin he'd built for himself in a spiral of self-blame. They meant to break both of them, and if Steve hadn't beaten Kate, they would have.

There was confusion, too. There were times when she was with her friends from Twelve or talking to Raven or chatting with Charles that she understood that Hydra had lied to her and used her. She did. But there was a year's worth of indoctrination pounding in her brain that was hard to ignore, even if Charles was trying to give her the tools to quiet those voices in her mind. And watching that footage… it was solid, irrefutable evidence that Hydra had lied to her, had perpetuated the hurt that the Games had inflicted on her.

" _You came to us broken, Katherine. It's simply my job to piece you back together,_ " she remembered Kilgrave saying. He'd told her the truth so many times, and she hadn't understood it.

There was fear as well. Of course there was. Kate didn't know what had happened to Victor Creed after the revolution, but she doubted he was dead, somehow. A simple firefight wasn't going to destroy a monster like that. If she'd been in a better mood, maybe she would have joked that she needed to fashion wooden stakes into arrows.

But she wasn't in a good mood. She was terrified — not only at Creed's threats but at everything they drudged up, the memories and the worries and the nightmares….

And yet Kate thought she could handle the nightmares, the memories, the whispers from Kilgrave and growled threats from Creed… She'd lived with trauma before. She knew what men like them could do, and she'd survived it. Given enough time, she could survive this too, come out the other side. She knew from experience that the nightmares would eventually subside, that the shock would fade. It would never go away, and there would always be scars, but it would stop hurting so sharply. Eventually.

No, what Kate didn't think she would ever be able to recover from was the _hatred_ she felt in her heart — not just for the Capitol, not just for Creed and Kilgrave and that Sentinel, not just for Hydra and what they had taken from her.

Kate hated herself.

She hated everything that she'd become. She hated that she'd tried to kill Logan — especially knowing now that he had been on her side, that he'd been trying to _protect_ her. She hated that she had believed the Capitol. She hated that she'd let Hydra turn her into a weapon, hated that she could still hear their drumbeat in her mind if she let her guard down even for a moment. She hated that she couldn't _trust_ herself to make the right decision when her track record thus far was so _obviously_ bad.

She could hardly blame SHIELD for keeping her locked up. They couldn't trust her. She still had Hydra's directives in her mind.

She'd _let them_ turn her into a weapon. She'd _wanted_ to be everything they asked her to be. She had even… she had _willingly_ gone to Kilgrave, given him everything he asked her to give, _enthusiastically_ thrown herself at his feet….

With a noise like a sob, Kate buried her face in her pillow, her knees tucked up nearly to her chest, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. She couldn't stop crying even if she'd wanted to, but she had long ago stopped trying to stop herself in moments like this. What would be the point? Nobody expected her to be anything but broken.

No, they expected her to _stay_ broken. They wanted to use her.

Suddenly, Kate blinked, staring at her pillow. Everything seemed to fade to the background as she stared at the large wet spot there. Her ears were rushing with the sound of her own heartbeat.

There was a way… if she simply took herself out of the equation. No one could use her. But more than that… she couldn't hurt anyone anymore.

It was so simple, so obvious. If she was dead, she couldn't carry out Hydra's orders. She couldn't hurt Logan. She couldn't couldn't hurt her friends, couldn't drag them into the abyss Hydra had created for her.

It would be the first choice she could make for herself since the Games. _Her_ choice. A way to _fix_ everything that she'd done wrong.

She had just put her head back down on her pillow and was trying to figure out how best to do it without alerting the people who were watching — always watching — that they'd be losing an "asset." Keep them in the dark until she was too far gone… And then there was a knock at the door a second before whoever it was let themselves in.

"I know you think you have everything figured out, but before you make any decisions, I wanted to talk to you."

For just a moment, Kate closed her eyes against the sound of Raven's voice. She understood why Charles had asked her to join him in his sessions with Kate. A girl who was younger than her, who wasn't a threat or a handler, who was fresh off her own Games… Kate felt more comfortable around Raven than Charles. And yet there was something off-putting about the way Raven could read people, as if she had the same ability Charles did to look right through a person.

But with Raven's entrance, the peaceful sort of clarity that had settled over Kate's shoulders lifted, and she let out a breath before she pushed herself into a sitting position, watching Raven make her way over to sit across from Kate. "Hey, Raven."

"Hi, Kate." Raven had a way of keeping eye contact the same way Charles did, and Kate found that she couldn't hold that eye contact and let her gaze drop to her hands. She didn't want to know what Raven saw when she looked at her. She didn't want to see pity or anger or … anything. "I won't ask you if you're alright, because that would be pointless, wouldn't it?"

Kate shifted, her gaze still on her hands. "I'll be fine."

"Eventually," Raven agreed. "But even I had a few sleepless nights from that video, and I wasn't the target."

"Yeah." Kate let the silence ring between them for a long moment. Before, she would have been gripped by a desperate need to _fill_ that silence, but now, she was using it as a guard, a shield. If she could just get through this conversation, if they could just… give up on her when they realized she wasn't going to answer…

"You should get changed," Raven told her. "You've got a visitor."

Kate frowned at that and blinked a few times before curiosity won out and she looked up at Raven's level gaze. "What?"

"Believe it or not, you've made a lot of progress," Raven said. "As much as it hurts, knowing and acknowledging reality _is_ a huge step."

Kate let out a noise of disbelief and shook her head. "They're still in my head, Raven," she said, her tone almost biting. "When I'm not paying attention, when I'm not on my guard, I can hear them. I want to go back to them still, even after everything they did to me." She glared down at her hands as she clenched them in the fabric of her sweatpants.

Raven shook her head. "I don't think that's you, Kate," she said. "You're not the one thinking those things; that's just what they programmed you to think."

"It sure sounds like my voice in my head," Kate said without looking up.

"It's not," Raven said, her voice so firm that Kate had to look up — and she was surprised to see a sort of fire in Raven's gaze for a moment. Raven was usually so soft-spoken and reserved, so that kind of sharp emotion seemed almost foreign.

Still, Kate didn't know what to say in response to Raven's insistence, so she simply fell silent as she got to her feet. She only had two outfits, both of them the same gray shirt and sweatpants, but it was nice to change into the clean one and let an orderly take the other one to be washed. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, then glanced up at the long mirror that took up most of the opposite wall. She knew it was a window on the other side, but all she could see was a tired, red-eyed girl whose black roots were starting to really grow in against the red dye.

Finally, she turned back to Raven and let out a long breath. "Alright," she said slowly. "You said I had a visitor?"

A smirk played with the corner of Raven's mouth, and she nodded toward the door. Kate could hear the scrape of the lock turning before the door opened, and then…

And then she could only stare at the boy with dark curls standing in the doorway.

She didn't entirely remember everything about him organically — most of her memory was still from the footage, or else it came in bits and pieces. But she knew that he'd grown since then, that he was taller and broader, that his curls had grown out.

"Kurt," she said in barely a whisper, her breath catching on every ridge of her throat before she shook her head, taking an unconscious step back — which stopped Kurt from stepping any further into the room. She could see the alarm, the worry, the _hurt_ painted all over his features, but she was already shaking her head.

"Kate, it's alright," Kurt said gently.

"No." She was almost hugging herself, her hands wrapped around her elbows. "No, Kurt… please." Her voice was shaking, but she couldn't control it. "Please, I don't want to hurt you."

For just a moment, Kurt froze in his tracks, but then he shook his head and came steadily toward her until she was nearly backed up to the wall and he was standing in front of her. "Kate, you're not going to hurt me," he said softly.

"You don't know that," she argued. "You don't know…" She closed her eyes, but that didn't stop the hot tears pouring down her cheeks. "You don't know what I am now. I'm not… I'm not the same."

"None of us are," Kurt said. He was standing so close to her, but he hadn't touched her. He looked like he wasn't sure what to do. "It doesn't matter, Kate. I know about Hydra, and it _doesn't matter_ , alright?"

She shook her head, trying to control the fact that she was crying, but she couldn't stop it. "Of course it matters," she breathed out. "What if they want me to hurt you?"

"Do _you_ want to hurt me?" Kurt asked, one eyebrow raised. It was almost a challenge… or it would have been if it hadn't been so soft.

"No." Kate said it so quickly that it took her breath away. "No, of course not. Never." She might not have known everything, but she knew above everything else that Kurt was a lifeline, that he felt like safety, that … that she _loved_ him. In her own, broken, desperate way.

Kurt nodded before he took a gentle step forward and put a hand on her arm. "Then we can figure the rest of it out together, alright?" When Kate glanced up at his face, he gave her a gentle smile that she felt all the way down to her toes. "I missed you, Kate."

Kate opened her mouth to respond, but all she managed was a little noise from the very back of her throat before she positively collapsed into Kurt, the weight of so many emotions on her shoulders that she couldn't even begin to try to identify all of them.

Kurt didn't try to talk to her at first, either. Instead, he went to the ground with her as she crumpled, keeping his arms around her. And when Kate held on tighter, he did too, until her head was underneath his chin and she was practically in his lap for how much she had melted into him — not that she was aware of it at the time.

No, the only thing on her mind at the moment was that this was the first time in a _year_ that she'd felt safe. Kurt had _always_ felt like safety, and she didn't realize how badly she'd needed that until she was in a puddle on the floor of her room.

She'd felt safe with America and her friends from Twelve, yes, but this was different. Kurt… Kurt was a piece missing, something Hydra had taken away from her, tried to use against her to keep her hurting and easy to manipulate. So to see him safe, to hear him say he wasn't going to _leave_ …

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his shirt, clutching onto him tighter even after she'd stopped crying any actual tears. His shoulder was a mess from how hard she'd cried into it, but now, her shoulders were shaking with dry sobs. There was nothing left inside her to come out in the tears.

"What are you talking about?" Kurt asked, pulling back to look at her with a frown.

Kate rested her forehead against his collarbone. She couldn't look at him for this admission. She couldn't. "I let them do it, Kurt," she breathed out. "I was so angry, so hurt… I _wanted_ to follow Hydra's orders. I _wanted_ to kill Fury and Logan. And I—" She felt her breath catch, and she choked on her words, unable to get any more out.

But to her surprise, Kurt didn't get mad. He didn't react in horror, as she'd expected. He _should_ have been angry with her, since she knew Logan and Kurt were such good friends… But instead, he only pulled her tighter, running one hand gently through her hair. "Kate, that's not your fault," he said, his voice somehow gentle and firm at the same time. "It's _not_."

"I let them—"

Kurt let out a noise and then pushed Kate back at the shoulders to look her right in the eyes. "Kate, I found Kilgrave," he told her frankly.

She froze.

"I know… I know what he did to you, Kate," Kurt said with a slight tightness to his voice. Anger flashed behind his eyes for the first time since she'd seen him — but even as upset as she was, she knew that anger wasn't for her. "And I made him regret it."

"Kurt," she started to say, but she didn't have anything else on her tongue. She didn't know what to say, not when she was caught between the feeling of Kurt's arms around her and the feeling of Kilgrave's breath on her cheek.

"I know what he did, and it wasn't your fault, Kate; do you understand that?" Kurt said with enough force that she couldn't drop his gaze. "I won't let him hurt you anymore, even if it's just in your head. He's dead, Kate; don't give him any more power over you."

But if Kurt had been expecting that to make Kate feel better …to Kate, it was just one more pillar of her life in the last year knocked out from underneath her, one more nightmare… She buried her face in Kurt's shoulder all over again.

"You're safe here, Kate," Kurt said, holding her tighter when it was clear Kate was losing her cool yet again. "I promise."

Kate nodded. She wasn't sure if she believed it, but she _wanted_ to believe it — because it was Kurt. "I just…" She paused when the words got stuck and then cleared her throat to try again. "I just don't know why you would do that."

Kurt paused and then pulled back enough that he could look at her properly. "Kate…" He let her name hang between them for a long moment before he let his shoulders drop and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Whatever it takes to help you, whatever you need — you've got me, alright? I'm not going to let you deal with this alone."

Kate blinked in surprise and then closed her eyes, leaning against him again, too drained to even _begin_ to try to process that. "Okay," she breathed out.

Kurt nodded and pulled her tighter. "I didn't get to tell you this before," he said softly, "but I love you, Kate. And I'm never going to give up on you, alright?"

Kate didn't move from how she was wrapped up with him, though she did hold on a little tighter. She couldn't find the words to everything she was feeling, not when it was so overwhelming, but the one thing she did know was that Kurt was an anchor, that he didn't hate her, that she honestly, finally believed he wasn't lying or holding anything back from her.

"I can try," she whispered at last.


	23. Chapter 23: Rescue Operation

**(A/N): Let's check in with the Titans again, shall we? Seems to me there are some loose ends... So we'll let robbiepoo2341 and Dick Grayson start to work on those.**

 **Thanks to our rockstar reviewers, especially TheRaspberryVigilante41 and Slim Summers2002! We're also very glad to see Kate and Kurt (finally) together again :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three - Rescue Operation**

 **Richard "Dick" Grayson, formerly of District Seven**

 **SHIELD Base in Twelve**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Some days, the memories still knock the wind out of me." -Unknown_

* * *

"What the hell, Grayson?"

After a long mission to Ten and a solid ten hours sleeping off the exhaustion that came with it when they got back to base, that certainly hadn't been the greeting Dick expected when he came into the training room with Kory that morning, and it took him a second to switch gears from flirting to dealing with his annoyed-looking mentor. "What, can't a guy walk with his girlfriend?"

Logan let out an annoyed sound that bordered on a growl before he gestured toward some of the younger kids. In particular, he pointed at Cassie talking with some of her friends from Twelve, who had been let into the base to help with Kate's recovery. "The little blonde can't even block. What the hell you been doin' this whole time?" Logan stopped and held up one hand, almost wincing as he closed one eye. "Wait. Maybe I don't wanna know."

Dick blinked at him. "I wasn't aware it was my job to—"

"Didn't Coulson sic you and your girl on teachin' and trainin' up the kids?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Then what the hell've you been doin'?"

Dick held up his hands. "Woah, hey. We've _been_ working hard. Gar can hold his own in a fight, more or less, and—"

"I didn't ask about your little group. I thought Coulson made it clear that I wanted you and your girl to help _everyone_."

"Yeah, anyone that asks gets in on the training," Dick said, trying to defend himself.

"We have been including everyone, no matter their age or skill level," Kory put in, rising to his defense as well.

Logan looked between the two of them with his eyes narrowed before he let out a little 'huh'. "Didn't think I'd have to spell it out for ya, but not everyone that needs help is gonna come askin'."

Dick glanced toward where Cassie was laughing with her friends, Billy and Teddy, and then let his shoulders drop. "Right. Got it."

Logan reached up and tapped him on the back of the head. "Come on, Damnit. You're better than this. Get your brains north of your waistband."

"Hey."

"Not like I'm wrong," Logan said, though this time, his annoyed expression had shifted into a troublemaking smirk.

Dick shook his head at that and was sure to shove Logan's shoulder as they passed each other. "Shut up, Logan."

"Make me."

Dick watched Logan go with a smirk before he turned back to Kory and gestured with one hand toward the group of younger kids. "Well, shall we?"

Kory smiled and took his arm. "Yes, let us make up for our apparent negligence."

"Logan's just like that," Dick said, waving a hand. "He'll find a way to push you even if you're doing everything he asked. But it's always in the right direction. Bruce does the same thing."

"Well then, we will have to thank him later," Kory said, her eyes twinkling. "I seem to remember him allowing us privacy in the Capitol, too. I like his directions."

Dick felt his face flush a bit at that, though Kory thankfully didn't press him too hard on it, instead gliding easily into introducing herself to the kids from Twelve and offering some basic training if they were interested — and they clearly, definitely were.

They didn't do anything too strenuous at first — it was more about finding out where these kids were in their training and what they could do. Cassie in particular had been locked up in a lab for so long that Logan was right: she would need plenty of help. But the boys were better prospects — when they weren't flirting with each other. Or even, sometimes, playfully flirting with Dick just so Kory could agree to whatever comments were being made about his physique and Dick could turn into a tomato right there on the training floor.

Still, even with all the teasing going around — and even with the teasing continuing long after the group from Twelve headed off to lunch together — Dick was glad to have Kory as a training partner as well as a mission partner. Having her by his side meant he was always trying to push himself, yes, but it meant he knew she could handle herself if he wore out too quickly.

So it was fun to sit back and watch as she gently helped Gar through some fighting techniques. With Raven helping Charles Xavier, Gar wasn't quite as focused on the training when he was instead watching the clock, but he still had that same boundless enthusiasm as always. He still _wanted_ to learn, wanted to help — and when he actually focused, he was getting pretty good, too. But both of them were starting to slow down now — it was little wonder with Kory, since she had already sparred with Dick that morning before they even got to the training room. So, Dick got up to cross the room and grab some water bottles for the two of them.

He had just grabbed one when he heard a sound, sort of echoing around him, that positively froze him in place. He spun around, but no one was there ... and no one else seemed to have heard the gleeful giggling. Kory and Gar were still sparring, Diana and Thor were still talking, John and Kaldur were still training…

 _Heeheehee_

Dick could feel his breath caught in his throat. He couldn't figure out where the sound was coming from or he would have tried to fight, but …

He closed his eyes, though that was no help to his sweaty palms or his panicked heartbeat. And when he did close his eyes, he could only see Jason again…

"Hey, you okay?"

Dick opened his eyes to see that Peter Parker — who had until then been talking with Steve Rogers — had come over, along with a concerned-looking Steve. Neither of them looked like they knew what had Dick on edge, but that in itself was even more concerning…

 _What if I'm going insane?_

He knew it was a possibility. Logan had told him about Silver Fox and how she hadn't come back quite the same. Maybe it had just taken Dick a little longer...

But his silence only concerned the others more; they knew by then that it was uncharacteristic of him. Peter glanced at Steve and then took a step forward, resting a hand on Dick's arm. "Seriously, are you alright?"

But Dick was too far gone to really register the question. Instead, he was staring at Peter's hand on his arm. It was exactly where Thea's name used to be… and all of a sudden, he could feel the sharp point of a knife in his flesh.

He jerked his arm back from Peter's grip without thinking about it. In fact, he wasn't doing much thinking at all, too caught up in his own memories. His throat hurt from screaming. His chest ached; his wrists were raw. Everything hurt to move.

He wasn't even _aware_ of much of anything until some time later, when he felt a gentle tapping on his wrist.

It was enough to break him out of his thoughts and to pull him to the present, away from the asylum and the names on his chest and his arm, and he looked up to see that Helena was crouched down beside him, looking more concerned than he had seen her look since the Games.

"Hey, Hel," he said, trying to smile at her, though he was still a little shaken — especially because he could see now that he'd gotten himself to the roof of the base, and he didn't remember getting there.

"Not buying what you're selling, Grayson," Helena said, shaking her head, though he saw the ghost of her smile all the same. "What happened?"

If it was anyone else, Dick would have tried to play it off. It was just an off day. Something reminded him of the Games. He was sure other kids had panic attacks, so it wouldn't be too out of the ordinary, right?

But it was Helena, and her hand on his wrist was the only thing anchoring him in a sea of miserable memories threatening to overwhelm him, so he took a deep breath and shook his head. "You're going to think I'm nuts," he said.

Helena raised an eyebrow. "More than usual? That'll be tricky." She blinked twice at him, innocently.

Dick couldn't help but laugh. "Thanks. That's really helpful." When Helena simply responded by smirking at him, he let his shoulders drop as he tried to explain it. "I… I dunno, Hel. What if I'm not all there?"

This time, Helena didn't respond with a glib response, instead tucking her feet underneath her as she frowned at him. "What happened?" she asked again with gentle insistence, giving his shoulder a squeeze with her other hand.

"I thought I heard Jack… laughing," Dick admitted. It sounded ridiculous out loud, like he'd thought it would, but of course Helena wasn't going to make fun of him for it. That was the good thing about having a little sister like Helena; she took things seriously, even if Dick felt stupid. He sat up a little better, surprised at how locked his knees were when he tried to move, so he must have been curled up on the roof for a while before she found him. Which only made him feel stupider.

But Helena was quiet until he got himself sitting upright — and then she pulled him into a hug. "I'm sorry," she said, whisper soft, and it was that more than anything else that finally got him to let out that soft sort of muffled sound right before a solid cry — the kind that just can't be stopped.

By the time he was done, his forehead was on her shoulder, and he had to _struggle_ to get a hold of himself. He didn't say anything, and neither did Helena, but the fact that he could feel her hand on his wrist as they finally got to their feet was full of an unspoken promise.

 _Got your back._

Before they hit the door that led back inside, Dick paused and cleared his throat. "So, I… please don't tell Bruce, alright?"

She took a deep breath before she turned and looked into his eyes, blue against blue. Her expression was stern, but her voice was gentle. "You can't just ignore this and hope it goes away."

"Yeah, no, I get that," Dick said. "It's just…" He let out a breath. "You know how he'll get."

Helena shook her head. "You might be surprised," she said. "Dad and I talked before we were even sure you were alive. We're going to get through anything that happens next as a _family_." Turning to lean back on the door, she crossed her arms on her chest. "You really think he didn't consider the possibility of post-traumatic stress?" Her lips quirked up in a grin as her eyes sparkled a bit. "Have you _met_ our father?"

Dick shifted. "Well, when you say it like that…" He trailed off, knowing that between Helena and Bruce, there was no way they'd leave the slightest possibility unexplored, no way they wouldn't have a plan for absolutely anything.

"I'm guessing something set you off down there, since they said you were fine right up until you… well, weren't. We just have to figure out what triggered you," Helena said as she turned to pull the door open.

"I dunno," Dick said, frowning as he waved one hand ... and then paused when he saw the brush of red rawness at his wrist. He wasn't sure how that could have happened; they weren't claw marks or anything that would indicate he had been holding on too tight when he was curled in a ball. It was more like…

Well. It was more like the red rawness when he'd been in the Games and rubbed his own skin off trying to get out of the ropes.

He didn't say anything about it as they got inside, because he didn't know how to explain it. There was no reason for the marks on his wrists, but now that he'd noticed them, he was starting to panic all over again, the tightness in his chest coming back even as he tried to act like his breaths weren't shallow and he wasn't pale.

"Dick," Helena prompted.

"I'm fine."

"Try again. This is me you're talking to."

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "Just… let me get my feet underneath me, Hel."

She studied him carefully before she made the decision for him, and redirected their steps to the hall where Charles Xavier's office was. No matter what Dick said, they both knew that he was _not_ okay, and she absolutely wasn't going to let him suffer through whatever this was without help.

Which was how Dick found himself sitting across from one of Ten's victors, feeling like an idiot as he tried to explain what was going on in a way that didn't sound like he was _insane_.

All things considered, that was a pretty tall order.

To his relief, though, Charles didn't seem overly surprised by the laughter and even nodded slowly as Dick told him that he was worried he was losing it, the whole thing spilling out at once: "What if I didn't come back all the way? I know it happens. I've heard from Logan…"

Charles leaned forward with a more serious look. "It's not uncommon for people who have been through a trauma to be unable to _remember_ the trauma without _reliving_ it." He shook his head, his kind smile still in place. "Often times, that leads to trouble distinguishing memory from reality; even your own senses are reacting to what your mind is telling you. That doesn't make you insane. It's simply your mind's way of coping with what happened to you."

Dick didn't bother to hide his relief as he let his shoulders drop and closed his eyes. "That's… good to hear."

Charles nodded. "Now, as to your injuries… I admit I'm not sure how you could have done that to yourself. But I'd suggest speaking to Dr. McCoy if you want a medical opinion."

"Maybe I will," Dick said, nodding to himself and feeling honestly a lot better, even if it was just for having someone confirm that he _wasn't_ insane. Not totally well, but not totally bonkers. He could live with that.

That was another one he owed Helena.

* * *

Dick was in a much better mood after leaving Hank McCoy's office, munching on a candy bar that Hank somehow had managed to get his hands on despite the war on. He could see why Gar liked the guy so much — he was easy to talk to and genuinely _nice_ , and he hadn't given Dick any grief about honestly not knowing how he'd hurt himself.

Dick somehow wasn't surprised to find that Kory and Helena both were waiting for him — though it looked like they'd been spending the time talking to Sinthea Schmidt as she got a butterfly bandage to put on a cut on her cheekbone. She didn't look like she'd been in a fight, but she was wearing her training clothes, so Dick had to assume it had been some kind of training mishap.

But they weren't talking about Sin's cut, if the conversation as he walked in was anything to go by.

"...so stupid. Like it's not bad enough we all got screwed around in the arena. And then they're making it worse."

Dick paused in the doorway, frowning to himself as he listened to Sin rant. He wondered if the girls had mentioned his own… issues.

"And of course I wasn't going to just stand aside and let them turn my sister into a mindless _drone_ , so we left Hydra behind. Decided to do our own revolution." Dick relaxed even as Sin stretched her arms out, her expression darkening. "I know Natasha and her old district partner have been out 'looking', if you can call it that, but I just want to go back to Hydra and destroy them all. One by one. Every last one of those cowardly men." She spit out the last word like it made her ill.

"You are not alone," Kory pointed out. "Many people have been wronged by Hydra already."

"Yeah, well, it's personal," Sin growled. "And they don't know names like I do. I already helped Kurt Wagner find the guy in charge of brainwashing my sister, but there are more people on my list that I'm itching to get to. Viper, obviously, and my fat- the Red Skull." Her expression darkened further. "He'll be hard to get to, but if I have to go through half of Hydra and his little lapdog Jason, I will. And I'll be happy to do it."

"Jason?" Dick repeated, drawing the girls' attention. He shrugged up both shoulders and waved their way. "Hey. Sorry. Wasn't eavesdropping — I was just coming back from my own patch-up." He held up both hands to show the wraps there.

Kory smiled and crossed the space to give him a gentle kiss, though Sin was watching them both, looking a bit annoyed. She narrowed her eyes at Dick and tipped her chin up. "I know you both allied with him in the Games, but if you get in my way—"

Without even looking at each other, Dick and Kory started to shake their heads. "You don't understand," Dick said. "Jason wouldn't work for Hydra. He cares about people too much. If he's with the Red Skull, I doubt it's his idea."

Sin's eyes narrowed further as Kory nodded. "It is just as you were saying," Kory told Sin. "You will not allow Hydra to use Kate because you care for her." She glanced at Dick, and he smiled as she put her arm around his waist. "Well, we care for Jason."

Sin didn't bother to hide her sneer. "You're wasting your energy on him," she said. "The Red Skull trained him personally. He's ruthless and efficient: exactly what that monster needed."

Kory and Dick glanced at each other, obviously shocked by the pronouncement, but it was Helena who cut in with the voice of reason — as always. "Even if that's true," she said slowly, "it doesn't mean it's not worth finding out _for sure_ why he's working for Hydra. We know there are people being forced into it. Some of them were rescued and came here. We've seen the evidence with our own eyes." She met Sin's gaze evenly, without blinking. "That's enough to make me wonder. If we start killing innocent victims out of spite, we're no better than Hydra."

Sin let out a noise from the back of her throat and waved her hand at them. "Fine. But if he kills you or turns you over to Hydra, don't come crying to me about it."

"Yeah?" Dick tipped his chin up. "Money where your mouth is. You say you know where to hit Hydra? Take us there and we'll see who's right, one way or another."

"And what do I get when I'm right?"

"The rare distinction of being right," Dick shot back.

Sin narrowed her eyes for just a moment before she looked at the other two in the room and finally let out a breath. "We'll need a transport. We could steal one..."

"I've got that part covered," Dick promised. "I'm on good terms with the director."

"So then put your money where your mouth is, rich boy. Or does that only apply when you're defending your bird-friend?" Sin shot back.

Dick grinned outright at that. "Gear up, smart mouth. We're settling this."

Sinthea was already moving, but Helena had lifted an eyebrow and reached out to stop Dick with a hand at his elbow. When he turned to face her, he recognized the look of concern immediately. "Dick—"

"Hey, Dr. McCoy fixed me up. And Professor Xavier says I'm not crazy, just traumatized. What more do you want?" he asked.

"Grayson." She didn't say anything more than that, but the tone said everything: she didn't want him to discount everything that had happened to bring them down to the medical wing, and she didn't think he was giving it the kind of credence he needed to. Her mouth opened and closed once before she added, " _Just_ traumatized?"

"Seriously, Hel," Dick said, going for a more open look this time as he met her gaze. "I know I'm not exactly the picture of mental health, but if I don't get out of here, I _am_ going to go crazy. You know me; I need to _do_ something." He shook his head. "And honestly…" He looked to Kory and bit his lip. "Honestly, knowing Jason's stuck under Hydra's thumb isn't going to help matters. Professor X said my problem is reliving what happened when I remember it, and you think sitting here knowing Jason's getting screwed over is going to make me _not_ think about how that went down?"

Helena and Kory shared a look this time, and Dick had to wonder when the two of them had developed a good enough rapport that they could speak without words this well. If it had been about anything but _himself_ , he would have been tickled to see them getting along, but now, he felt more than a little ganged up on, especially since Helena ended the silent conversation with Kory by shooting another _look_ Dick's way.

"Okay, first of all? This isn't fair," he said, holding his hands up between them. "My two favorite girls are _not_ allowed to team up on me, because you both know I can't say no to you, right?" When that didn't get either of them to break their looks of concern, he shook his head. "And second of all… I get it. I freaked _me_ out back there. I know that wasn't a good look." He let out a breath. "Tell you what. We all go, and we stick together. No one goes anywhere alone."

"And if you have another reaction like you did in the training room?" Kory asked gently. Which really wasn't fair, because he had Kory playing the part of concerned girlfriend, complete with wide eyes and gentleness, and Helena playing the no-nonsense concerned sister… How was he supposed to argue with that united front?

Seriously, they had picked the worst possible time to team up on him.

Still, he shook his head and leaned over to kiss her cheek. "I know either one of you could keep me from bolting if you wanted to. And… hey, this time, at least I know what's going on. The professor seemed to think it'll get easier, especially now that I know what's going on in my own head. It's just a matter of learning how to force myself to reckon with reality and recognize the triggers that put me back in that arena mentally..."

"That's something you need _time_ to do," Kory argued.

He gave her a plaintive look. "But you know I'm right on this. We can't just leave Jason to the Red Skull."

"No," Kory said in a breath. "No, we cannot."

Dick glanced over at Helena, who watched his eyes and then let her shoulders drop. "Listen. If I think for even a second that you can't handle it—"

"—then you can send me back to the jet and I'll babysit the pilot," Dick said. "But I can't stay here if I know… Hel, can you imagine what he's going through if he's still with the bad guys? I'm perfectly safe and I'm having blackout freakouts!"

"Yes, you are," she said pointedly. "Which proves my point -"

"Come on, please," he said. "I'll go nuts sitting in the base."

Helena held his gaze for a long moment before she finally nodded. "Fine. I can't stop you. But I will be watching you _so_ closely, Grayson…" He broke into a grin, wrapping her up in a spinning hug before he rushed out of the room, not about to give her any time to think of any more reasons.

He had just grabbed his staves before he remembered that he'd promised to handle the new director. So he did, finally, peer into Logan's office — not at all surprised to find that Logan was talking to Skye as she worked something up on the screens. Dick grinned and shook his head to himself, wondering if Logan was just blind or if he was willfully ignoring the fact that Agent Skye turned a little pinker every time he reached past her to comment on something on the readouts.

"Hey, I'm stealing my sister and my girlfriend and we're taking Sin with us to go bust Jason out of Hydra," Dick called out. "I'll be back by curfew."

"Good armor's in the corner of my office," Logan said without looking up. "Freer movement in the arms."

"Good to know," Dick said, already redirecting to grab what he needed. Then, remembering the wraps on his wrists and the fact that he _still_ didn't know how that had happened, he paused. Might as well get that addressed while he was thinking about it, right? "And… hey. Can I borrow your shadow when I get back? I need to ask about some security tapes earlier today — but it can totally wait until after we get Jay."

"Sure," Logan said. "If you're goin somewhere hot, ask Harry to fly you." He finally looked up at Dick. "He's a good luck charm."

"Haven't met him yet, but I'll ask around," Dick said with a grin and a two-fingered salute. "Thanks! I'll leave a sock on the door for you!" he called out, grinning even wider when that turned Skye a brilliant red and got such a dry look from Logan that Dick was cackling by the time he hit the hallway.

"Nothing like a little truth-telling to lift the mood," Dick laughed to himself.

He just hoped the mood would last — and that he wouldn't have a total meltdown if Jason was getting torn apart by Hydra when they got there. Seeing that all over again…

Dick shook his head to himself. He was _sure_ that half the problem was that he couldn't _hit_ a disembodied laugh. This? This was a much more concrete way to hit back against his own memories and trauma.

Besides, he was a Grayson. And Graysons didn't stay grounded for long.


	24. Chapter 24: Three's Company

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We thought we'd shake things up with a two-fer chapter this time around, with Wade Wilson and Harley Quinn brought to you by Canucklehead Cowgirl :)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed, especially on previous chapters. We love seeing those marathon reviews, not gonna lie. And thanks also to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your reviews. This world is a little rough sometimes, and we do so hate to pick on our kids, but PTSD is a real thing, man.**

 **Let's make it worse...**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Four - Three's Company**

 **Wade Wilson and Harleen Quinzel**

 **Certified Nutcases of the 24th and 25th Games, Respectively**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _You drive me crazy, but you keep me sane." - Melody Lee_

* * *

Wade W. Wilson

Formerly of District One

* * *

Ever since Wade and Harley had met, it seemed like there had been fireworks between the two of them with every shared glance, every kiss, and every stolen moment. They couldn't seem to stop staring and smiling at each other … and almost every moment they spent together, they were holding hands and gravitating closer and closer. If it wasn't for the fact that they were keeping mostly to themselves, someone would have tried to break up the infatuation festival long before now.

District One's favorite son honestly couldn't believe his luck. She was _gorgeous_. And _nuts_. And she seemed to understand all of his crazy without giving him a ton of flack for it.

And it wasn't enough that they'd both shared an attraction; they also quickly discovered they shared a lot more than that when they compared friends. And mental conditions.

"So how come I hadta wake up to Granny Goofball insteada your handsome mug?" Harley asked as they strolled down the hall.

"Bad luck," Wade replied, smiling down at her.

 _I can't believe we're hanging out with the hot blonde from Eight._

 _ **I can't believe she's impressed with the little bit of crap we've shown her here in Twelve.**_

 _I guess when you're hanging out with a girl that was dead a few weeks ago, everything is impressive._

"Favorite color?" Harley asked, twisting the end of her pigtail in her free hand in exactly the manner that rendered Wade momentarily speechless every single time. "Same time."

Wade faltered for a moment but quickly gathered his bearings enough to answer. "Red," both of them said at once. Then, to Wade's absolute delight, Harley grinned wider, leaving him in _awe_ as she giggled and bounced along.

"Okay, but that's the same, so you get to go again," Wade said, which somehow got a broader grin out of Harley as she leaned in, clutching his arm.

"Okay, howsabout … favorite weapon?"

 _Wow. Seriously. Is this our reward for killing Thanos? Because …_

 _ **Wow.**_

 _It's like we made her in a machine._

 _ **Come on. No way could we get the balance of crazy and pretty right on the first try. We'd probably end up with some bleach-white nutbag with identity issues.**_

"Have you _seen_ me work my katanas, gorgeous?" Wade asked. "And that's not _just_ a euphemism. I mean my actual swords."

"Not yet," Harley said, smiling and bouncing. "But I figure if things keep goin' the way they have been, you might just show me." She popped up on her toes to steal a quick kiss. "An' I don't mean the ones you carry on your back."

Wade blinked at her for a moment, then picked her up in a spin to kiss her. "It's like you're some kind of _angel_ sent here to reward me."

 _Yep. That's it. Divine intervention._

She giggled and held tight with her arms around the back of his neck as he pulled her tightly to him. "Alright, handsome — your turn."

 _Oh my God, she's …_

"I know. Perfect," Wade said under his breath, though if Harley had heard him, she didn't openly react to it.

* * *

 **Harleen 'Harley' Quinzel**

 **Formerly of District Eight**

 **(Not even ten minutes later)**

* * *

Harley and Wade had been playing their self-styled 'getting to know you' game since they'd met … and although it was a bit childish, Harley was clearly charmed by how much Wade wanted to know about her. But even so, she was running out of ideas for new questions, and she truly felt like she was going into forbidden territory with all she had left to ask. She just wasn't prepared for Wade to be the one to go there first.

"Alright, I've got it," Wade said. "For the record now … only one answer … all-time cutest tribute from _any_ Games. Alive or dead ... or ... undead as it were. Go."

"Is this some kinda fishin' expedition, Mistah Wilson?" Harley asked, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"No, I really want to know, _Miss Quin-zel_. Of course … it can't be me, and mine can't be you. That's just … well. It'd feel like I was just tryin' to get in your pants — _which I am_ — but not _just_ to get in your pants."

Harley couldn't help but giggle at him. She wasn't used to guys being so … honest. "You sure this isn't just a sneaky way to get me to say you're my favorite?"

"Whaaat? I'd never … well. Okay. Maybe I would, but _I'm not on trial here_ ," Wade said, which got a little laugh out of Harley.

"If it pleases the court, howsabout we say it at the same time?" Harley suggested. "Then no one's tryin' ta get into anyone's pants."

"At the risk of hearing you say who I _think_ you're going to say, I'll allow it. Motion passed. On the count of three." The two of them took each other's hands and turned so they were face to face.

"One..."

" _Dos_ …."

"Peter Parker!" Both of them had blurted it out at once. For a moment, both Harley and Wade stared at each other in open shock. " _What_? Wait."

"You think Petey's cute too?" Harley said, wide-eyed and almost beside herself. She could hardly feel her feet touching the ground. It was a tough admission for her. Aside from glossing over it in the Games … she'd never really _told_ anyone about her crush on Peter.

"That itty bitty snacklet of a spider-man? Um. DUH." Wade threw both hands up. "How could I _not?_ "

Harley bit her bottom lip, bouncing in place as Wade … more or less did exactly the same thing. "I love that you love Petey," Harley said.

"I love that you love that I love Petey," Wade replied, smiling. "And just to be clear … we're not talking about that super creepy but kinda cute in a so-ugly-he's-cute kind of way spider you had in the arena, are we?"

"Nah, we're talkin' 'bout the floppy haired, awkward, gangly Spider-Man Petey," Harley agreed. "Is he here? The Amazin' Spidah-Man?"

"You _bet_ he is — him and all his Awesome counterparts! And his old teammates too!" Wade said, grinning wider. "Come on; we were bunk buddies before the war broke out."

That had Harley slowing to a stop, though. "Wait. You were?" Her hand rested over her heart as she thought it over.

"Yeah, what's wrong, sugar bear?" Wade asked. "Would it make you feel better if I told you he preferred to bunk up with the fuzzy Elf? Or that he snores in his sleep, the little angel?"

"It's just … I kinda had a whole closet dedicated to him," she admitted quietly. "An' I'm tryin' real hard this time around not to do anything too crazy."

Wade stared at her open-mouthed, and Harley shrunk in on herself — concerned for a moment that she might have wrecked it admitting her obsession. "Shut. Up," Wade said in an almost flat tone that had Harley's heart sinking. "You had a shrine too?" He was grinning wider as he took a few steps forward and picked her up, snuggling into her neck. "I have one in my room! Petey hates it, but man, does it ever make it easier to keep up when he's right there to approve of my one-of-a-kind Spider-Man doll.… _He's got fully articulated limbs, Harley."_ He pulled back to hold her by her shoulders and look her squarely in the eyes. "Fully. _Articulated_."

Harley blinked hard and then burst out laughing in delight. _He really is perfect!_ "Can I see him?"

"Of course! _Mi casa es tu casa!_ "

The two of them went giggling down the hall, with Wade pulling her along the whole while. But when they got to Wade's shared room with Peter and Kurt, it was unmercifully empty. "Oh. Right. Those two're probably off so Kurt can get with making SHIELD-approved kissy faces at Katie-bug or begging Wolvie to let them go on a picnic. One or the other. Maybe both. I'm sure it's just a matter of time before ol' Wolver-oonie lets them share a sleeping bag."

"That's okay," Harley said, making her way into the room and quickly dropping down on the lower bunk. "We can still talk here, can't we?"

"Um. _Yes._ But …"

"But what?" Harley asked, tipping her head to the side so that her pigtail swayed as it fell off her shoulder.

"But … Petey has the _top_ bunk here," Wade said as he patted the top bunk, which only had Harley giggling before she climbed up and hugged Peter's pillow. "Come on, funshine. Your turn for questions."

Harley tipped her head back and blew out all of her breath. "Oh … okay. What …" Wade leaned on the edge of the bunk, his chin in both hands as he waited in rapt silence for her to continue, earning himself a giggle. "What's your deepest, _darkest_ fear?"

"Cows."

Harley blinked and then smirked. "Really? They're just big, sweet snuggles, aren't they? They got tha biggest brown eyes … and tha longest lashes in the world …"

"Yeah, no. They scare the shit out of me," Wade said, looking dead serious. "The way they _stare you down_ … it's _chilling._ " He let out a full body shiver that went on for far too long. Harley was biting her lip, trying to keep from giggling at what very well could have been Wade's honest response. "Okay, princess pigtails, your turn."

"Well … for me, it'd prolly be bein' stuck somewhere's all alone. By myself with no one to talk to or play with …" Her tone fell slightly as she continued, staring off past his shoulder. "No audience, no games …"

"And being stuck like that forever with no distractions and no hope for change," Wade said in a similar tone. "That's the one thing that scared me before I died."

"Yeah? I don't remember too much of that," Harley said. "Seems like I barely died before I woke up with _Iron Man_ makin' friendly."

"Want me to cut off his antenna?"

Harley fell apart laughing and shifted so that she could lean over the edge of the bunk and give him a long, uninterrupted kiss. "Nah. I'm good."

* * *

 **Wade Wilson**

 **Formerly of District One**

* * *

For a long while, the two sweethearts continued to compare favorites between kisses, moving from the bunks through the complex, taking in the sights and looking for 'any sign of something Awesome'. But as they passed a group of SHIELD agents, several of which were sure to point out to them how crazy they were... "Oooh, check it out, babe, they're playing our song!"

"An' here I thought the guys in blue wouldn't be so _green_ ," Harley said with her nose in the air.

"They just can't handle our brilliance," Wade said with a nod before he offered her his arm. "Shall we?" She smiled and took the offered arm as they strolled down the hall. The guard shift was changing, and though they all had places to be, clearly, Wade and Harley were ignoring them entirely.

"What was your favorite part of _your_ Games?" Harley asked, drawing her shoulder up to her ear as she leaned her head on his bicep.

"I liked the camaraderie," Wade said decisively, nodding to himself. "Not in _my_ group, of course. They were a bunch of self-serving egotists."

Harley nodded at that. "Yeah, the Career pack that year was nothin' but a lotta deluded narcissists. Except for you an that hawk-guy. He seemed pretty nice."

"Oh. Honey. You have no idea. He's the _nicest_ … and those _arms_ . shoulders!" He let out a low whistle. "Well. You'll see. Soon enough. But he's got an on-again, off-again, doesn't-always-admit-it's-a-thing _thing_ with his old district partner. You know. The Mama Spider."

Harley waved one hand. "Like that wasn't a hard one to call. _Woof._ "

"Alright, your turn. Your favorite part of your Games," Wade said, smiling at her as they skipped down the hall arm in arm.

"Oh. No contest," she said, holding up her free hand. "It had to be—" Harley stopped dead, pulling Wade with her as, from around the corner, a familiar wild flower appeared. " _Ivy!_ "

Ivy turned toward the two of them, and Harley positively squealed in delight, bouncing in place with her hand under her chin as the hand resting on Wade's arm started tapping him excitedly. And Wade honestly couldn't help but be every bit as excited as she was — dancing in place with one hand over his mouth.

"Ohmigosh! Do it again! Ask for … Ask for Nightwing!" Wade said, gasping still before he danced in place. "You're... _You're Poison Ivy! Holy free-holies, I'm such a fan!_ " He looked almost as excited as Harley, even as Harley rushed forward and threw her arms around Ivy's neck.

"Daffodoll!" Harley squealed. "Am I evah happy to see you!"

"Harley..." Ivy almost breathed out, clearly not having expected to see her. She stood motionless for a long moment before suddenly springing to life and wrapping Harley in a tight embrace. . "They brought you back," she mumbled against Harley's shoulder.

"Am I ever happy to see you, Red," Harley said warmly, smiling sedately with her chin over Ivy's shoulder as she snuggled in. "These guys have been real nice — an' our new director's pretty easy on tha eyes too! Are you on a secret mission? Didja take down some tool with no sense of decency?"

"Actually, that's what I was going to do." Ivy stopped short and pulled back only far enough to look Harley in the face. Her green eyes roved over Harley's features like she was trying to memorize them all. "We have to get you out of here."

"Yeah? I'll betcha we can share a bunk bed!" Harley said, bouncing on her toes. "I got a guy that's been dyin' to take over the top bunk!"

All at once, the two girls were wrapped up as Wade joined their hug fest. "This is so great. I'm having fun, and I haven't even killed anybody!" Wade exclaimed. "And I'm with two thirds of the Sirens! Who are we killing first, ladies?"

Very slowly, Ivy turned her head and looked at Wade. She didn't seem the least bit impressed. "And who are you, exactly?"

"Miss Quin-zel's personal escort, ma'am," Wade said snapping to attention and even going so far as to salute her like a good little soldier.

"Oooh! You're gonna love him, doll-face! He's the sweetest little nugget o' murder to come out of District One!" Harley said, beaming at Ivy as Wade grinned at both of them, blushing lightly.

"Awww, shucks," Wade said before Harley popped up to kiss his cheek. "I wasn't anywhere near as slick as your poisonous petunia here. That whole … fatal attraction lipstick thing was something else. I mean … it's been done, but it was just … _awesome._ " He shook his head and gestured to Ivy one-handed. "And that mud is just … _fabulous._ Who's your designer? I'm more of an autumn, myself. Do they work in red?"

"That's the craziest thing I ever heard!" Harley exclaimed. "You're a summer if anything!"

"Ah, no," Wade said shaking his head. "Not a Summers. Nate said there was no way in God's green earth that we were related, and I'm kind of happy, because honestly … that would make the feelings I had for that boy …. _Wholly inappropriate._ "

Harley giggled at that, grinning at him as she shook her head. "You say the cutest things."

"Harley, why are you with this … _person_? Isn't he SHIELD?" Ivy asked.

"Ah, hi. Wade W. Wilson, formerly of District One, better known as _Deadpool_. Some people call me the merc with the mouth, but that's not nearly as common in this particular set-up. Then again … you _might_ not recognize me." He gestured to his face. "I used to wear a mask — for everyone else's benefit, I might add — but after I died, they brought me back to my pre-torched glory, and frankly, it's criminal to lock up all this pretty." Wade swept Ivy's dirty hand up and kissed the back of it before she could pull it away. " _Enchanté_." When he smiled at her, there was mud smeared across his mouth from kissing her, but he didn't look like he'd noticed or cared in the least. "Pretty sure that means 'I love the taste of your dirt'."

"Isn't he tha cutest?" Harley said, her hands clasped in front of her as she swayed back and forth.

Ivy rolled her eyes as she recoiled from Wade. She rubbed her hands together carefully, spreading dirt over the spot Wade's lips had touched. "Harley, we don't have time for this. I saw _Jack_."

"What?" Harley said, looking shocked as Wade echoed her in a flat tone. Harley quickly spun in place as if Jack would reappear out of nowhere as Ivy continued to explain.

"Out in the woods. It was him, but he didn't look like we remember him," Ivy said. "I don't _understand_ it, Harl, but it's not right."

"Well he couldn't look like him, could he?" Wade said, looking completely serious as he glanced down the direction Ivy had been heading. "Like I said… If we came back how we looked before, I'd be the spitting image of Ryan Reynolds crossed with a shar-pei who met the business end of a flamethrower. And no one wants to see that, let me tell you." He gestured down the path Ivy had been headed down. "Did the creepy little toolbox go this way?"

She nodded slowly. "We don't need your help."

"Of course you don't," Wade said. "I've seen this girl let loose with a baseball bat, and you—" He waggled his finger at her. "—You and cosmetics are a killer combination. Though you were one hell of a pinch hitter for the prettiest girl in pigtails." Harley looked delighted as she spun toward Ivy with a grin and an understated 'awwwww, Red.'

"I don't have _time_ for this," Ivy said, backing away from Wade. "If you're not going to stop me, then … I have to go. And I think it's something I need to do alone. _You_ don't need to be anywhere near that grinning gargoyle."

"Wait, wait, wait," Wade said, rushing to catch up to her. "I can help. I can. I know my way around here, and you can't go after him without backup and weapons. So … what's your poison, sister? Well... not your _poison_. That would be redundant. What do you want to kill him with? Something pointy or something that goes boom? I prefer a _click-bang_ myself, since _snikt, thwip,_ and _bamf_ are already taken."

"Maybe a _shiiiiing_ ," Harley suggested — but that only had Wade grinning widely at her. He rushed over and stole a kiss but then immediately backed off, looking over at Ivy with a wide-eyed expression.

"Oops. Sorry. I just … I guess we're after the same girl." Wade rubbed the back of his neck as he gestured to the hallway and started to walk briskly. " _After_ we get the creepy, totally abusive misogynist."

Harley looped her arm with Ivy's and started skipping off in the direction Wade was walking, though with Ivy less than enthusiastic to fall into her cheerful lunacy, there was a definite hitch in her skip. "We're not going with that lunatic," Ivy muttered.

"Why not? Sure, he's with SHIELD, but he's a sweetie pie, an' he's got a cute butt! You know mama's gotta have a lil' eyecandy!"

"You don't exactly have a great track record with men."

"Yeah? Well … I'm gettin' better," Harley said, shrugging her shoulder up to her ear. "The guys I've met since I woke up — they're all real classy fellas, Dandelioness," Harley said. "And Wade's about as sweet as they come!"

Ivy's features hardened at that. "He's just _using_ you, Harley. It's what men _do._ "

Harley slowed down but stepped closer to her. "Yeah? What about Helena? Or Kory? Nightwing? What about you? Aren't you just usin' me too?"

"I'm your _friend_ , Harley!"

"Are you? What do you get outta our friendship? Tell me. What do _you_ get? Someone to rely on you? Someone who depends on you? Do you like that?"

The two young women stared at each other for a long moment. "We're wasting _time_ , Harley. We have to stop him now."

"Or is it something deeper? Is there _another reason_ you're watchin' out for me — even after I bit the big one?" Harley's shoulders dropped, and her expression shifted to something completely open as she reached out to take Ivy's hand. "Is it because you love me, Red? Cause that's why I wanna watch out for you. But that doesn't mean I gotta turn my back on everyone else."

"Harley.…"

"There's a lot of good people here, buttercup," Harley continued. "An' I'm sorry if ya got off on the wrong foot with 'em, but it's not the same SHIELD anymore. Fury's deader'n a doornail. And all the higher up muckity-mucks've been ticked off since this whole shindig kicked off. You gotta trust me."

"I _do_.… I just don't trust anyone _else,_ " Ivy said with a sigh.

"So ya _do_ love me? Awwwww, I got goosebumps!" Harley leaned over to steal a quick kiss. "Wanna feel 'em?"

Ivy rolled her eyes and shoved her in the shoulder — but she was trying not to smile. "We both know where that would lead, and like I said before, we don't have _time_ for that."

"Then why don't we just move along and kick a clown into a greasepaint smear?" Wade cut in before the three of them kept going all the way to the hangar, where Wade was looking over the people that were standing around and loading up for various missions. "Then you girls can get back to catching up. I won't stand in your way."

"Awww, sweetums," Harley sang out with a fond smile on her face. "Let's take things one step at a time, huh? First things first … let's go murder the clown."

The three of them seemed to reach a bit of an understanding — at least for the time being. So, before Ivy could argue another point, Wade simply started off the way she'd been heading to begin with. The base was clearly between missions, as there was much more activity in the hangar rather than anywhere else, and Wade knew exactly where to stand to keep out of their line of sight.

"Okay, but … I know most of these guys," Wade said. "And the ones I _don't_ know are regular SHIELD agents and staff … so…." He turned toward Ivy. "Which one is he?" He wasn't questioning her sanity. He knew that if _the_ Poison Ivy had seen one of her mortal enemies she wasn't _mistaken._ Questioning her would have been crazy.

Ivy stepped past him, peeking around the corner. Not surprising anyone, a few moments later, Harley's blonde hair appeared just below her chin as she peeked around the corner with Ivy. What Ivy clearly didn't expect, though, was Wade leaning over the top of her until he was almost brushing against her — his chin just above her hair. Wade was looking for anyone that seemed out of place, but it was Ivy that pointed him out.

"There. The tall, skinny one headed for that stealth transport," Ivy said, pointing to one particular young man with striking features and slicked-back hair … wearing the uniform of a pilot and waiting as several familiar ex-tributes climbed into the transport — both of the Wayne siblings as well as a couple redheads, Sin and Kory.

"Diabolical," Wade said in a low tone.

"Ya know … that does look an awful lot like my old Puddin'," Harley agreed, her eyes narrowed and her hands held up in front of her, framing him as if she was taking a picture. She drew herself up and started marching right into the hangar — with Wade quickly jumping into step behind her.

Before they could get close, though, the transport closed up and started moving toward the open bay doors. "We're just gonna have to follow them," Wade said, waving Ivy forward. "Come on; I _believe_ I can fly."

"Then strap in, sweet cheeks, and follow that idiot," Harley said as Wade picked out an equal transport and slipped inside when the pilot stepped away for a moment.

"We won't be able to use the comms for help until we get the clown," Wade said before he turned to tip his head at Ivy. "And if it's all the same to you, I'd rather that our first outing as a trio _not_ be interrupted by an overly protective Uncle Coulson." He grinned at them as the transport started to move. "Besides … this is Harley's first real mission too! Look at you two! Twinsies!"

"Be right there, Wildflower," Harley called out as she headed to the cockpit with Wade. "Wade here told me he'd let me help wit' takeoff! Ya know! Waggle my wings a lil' bit?" She bubbled into a giggle and plopped down in the copilot seat before she started making airplane noises — that Wade was quick to accentuate with sounds of gunfire and screams from the enemy plane.

He smiled widely as Harley fell to pieces laughing — even before they were off the ground. _Good God, do I love it when she's laughing_ , Wade thought to himself, and for once, the two voices that often commented on his thought process didn't argue or interrupt.

As promised, Wade let Harley handle the yoke for the actual take off, and though he knew he should have been watching the runway, the look of awe and _delight_ on Harley's face as he helped her get the plane off the ground was something he couldn't pass up.

"I'm _flyin'!"_ Harley almost breathed out. Her smile stretched into a maniacal grin, and she turned his way fast enough for her pigtails to whip into her face. " _I'm flyin'!"_

"And you're doing a bang up job of it, sweetheart," Wade said in a perfectly serious tone, gently taking the yoke in front of him to adjust the rise in altitude. "If we were in a better craft, I'd teach you how to do a barrel roll. But …" He looked over his shoulder into the fuselage where Ivy was alone. "I think … you should probably check on your girl."

Harley's smile warmed up a bit at that. "Yeah, I was just waitin' to get in the air first," she said. "You gonna be okay up here all by your lonesome?"

"I've got it," Wade promised. "I know you have to see that your lady love is okay." Harley's grin widened again, and she made a point to kiss his cheek.

"You're tha best," she said before she skipped out of the cockpit, leaving Wade with his thoughts — and a radar image of where he was going.

"What are you up to now, you slimy little bottom feeder?" Wade said under his breath, his eyes narrowed as he watched the blip on the screen with '5225' next to it, indicating which plane it was. He dropped his speed a little to let probably-Jack move ahead of him.

Wade was glad that Harley had some time with her best girl — especially since they really hadn't gotten a chance to talk. Not since the arena anyhow.

 _I know that I'd be upset if we couldn't have seen Petey-pie and the Bamfmaster._

 _ **You'd be upset if it was just us anyhow. The banter isn't nearly as good when it's mostly internal.**_

"Mostly," Wade agreed under his breath.

 _I wonder what the chances are that Ivy'll warm up to us too_ —

"Hey now," Wade whispered, watching the panel. "Don't count on anything. She's got every right in the world not to like me. No one likes you guys."

 _That was unnecessarily cruel._

 _ **And … probably accurate.**_

 _But we're still more popular than the … what did she call him?_

"Grinning gargoyle."

 _Right! Loved the alliteration!_

Wade frowned to himself at that … it wasn't that his subconscious was wrong … he just … didn't want to deal with it. At all. Not when he knew just ahead of him, flying transport 5225, was the sleazebag that had tortured the sweetest and craziest girl he'd ever met.


	25. Chapter 25: Eye of the Tiger

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! This time, we're looking at our adopted Four, written as always by the brilliant BstnStrng13.**

 **Thank you to the writers who reviewed this latest chapter as well as others (loving the marathons, guys) and especially thanks to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being ROCK STARS with the reviews. Seriously, we LOVE having you both on the story!**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Five - Eye of the Tiger**

 **SHIELD base, District Twelve**

 **John Constantine**

 **Written by BstnStrng13**

* * *

" _He who conquers himself is the mightiest warrior."_ — Confucius

* * *

The sword came at John from his right, making a whistling sound as it arced through the air. He forced himself to remain still and watch its progress, defying the impulse to throw up his hands in self-defense.

W _ait… wait… okay, now!_

He dove to his left, evading the blade, and then rolled on the ground and back to his feet in one continuous motion. On the way up, he grabbed a shield that lay nearby and raised it just in time to block the sword as it came at him again. The force of the blow drove vibrations up his arm and into his shoulder. He grimaced at the shock but held on.

Thor laughed. "I thought I had you, miner," he said.

John grinned weakly. "I thought you did, too." He glanced at the sword, now hanging loosely in Thor's hand, and breathed out in relief. The Asgardian wasn't pulling his punches today.

To be fair, the sword wasn't truly a sword. It was a wood facsimile, with blunted edges and a flat tip, weighted to feel like the real thing. It was one of a number of practice weapons that John was growing familiar with in the training room at SHIELD's base; and while it wouldn't have cut him, it would have left some nasty bruises had it connected. For John, that was incentive enough to train as if it were made of steel.

Thor raised the pseudo-sword and studied it. "You are fortunate I wasn't wielding my hammer," he said dryly. "I rarely miss with that."

John looked across the room, to where Thor's hammer rested against the wall. "I think we should leave the hammer out of my training routine and save it for Hydra. Since no one but you can lift the damn thing, I don't think I'll need practice defending myself against it." He hesitated, and then added, "Right?"

Thor shrugged. "Well, I have to confess there have been a few nights when you were snoring that I was sorely tempted."

John widened his eyes in mock fear and Thor laughed again.

John smiled. Thor had a hearty, honest laugh that brightened and filled a room. It was the complete opposite of the bitter snicker that John had grown up hearing from his father. But then, Thomas Constantine was incapable of feeling joy, whereas Thor managed to find happiness in all measure of things.

* * *

 _Against his better judgment, John sat in the kitchen of the dilapidated cabin that used to be home and waited. The place hadn't changed a bit. The rough wooden floor was splintered and uneven under his feet, and there was rust on the handle of the water pump that hovered over the sink. He frowned at his sister just as she gave him a tentative smile._

" _This is a waste of time, Cheryl," he said, "and you know it."_

 _She shook her head. "No, it's not. Dad spent a few weeks believing you were dead_ — _"_

" _Probably the happiest weeks of his life," John interrupted._

"— _and that changes a person," she continued, as if John hadn't spoken. "He thought he'd lost you forever. He's not going to take you for granted anymore."_

 _John gave an incredulous snort. "Dad never took me for_ granted _," he corrected. "He_ hated _me. He's probably going to hate me even more for coming back to life when Mom couldn't."_

 _She opened her mouth to disagree and then stopped. "Maybe," she conceded. "But whatever he thinks of you, the two of you still need to talk while you have the opportunity_ — _while you're here in Twelve. I know you, John. You won't be at peace unless you think you've done everything you can to resolve things with him."_

 _Her expression was earnest, almost beseeching. John shrugged. "Fine. I'll try. But I'm doing this for you, not him_ — _and not for me either. I'm done with trying to make things right with Dad. It's a lost cause." He wondered if he was telling her the truth. Was there ever a time that a son gave up on his father's approval?_

" _Trying is all I can ask," Cheryl replied._

 _Before John could say another word, the outer door to the cabin swung open and Thomas Constantine walked in. His gaze immediately landed on John, and he stared as if he couldn't believe his eyes. Then his face hardened._

" _Hey, Dad," John said quietly._

 _Constantine didn't reply. His eyes bore into John for another half a minute before he turned to Cheryl. "Well, look who's here," he said to her. "The killer's been brought back to life and come home. You sure you feel safe with him, girl? He didn't try to hurt you, did he?"_

 _Cheryl sighed, "Dad_ — _"_

" _I didn't think he'd be one of the ones they resurrected," Constantine went on, speaking to his daughter as if John wasn't there. "I figured they'd have learned their lesson from the Games. He can't be trusted."_

 _John could smell liquor on his breath. It figured._ There might be a revolution going on all around us, _he thought,_ but Dad can still find a way to score whiskey.

 _There seemed little point in talking to his father when he was like this, but John had promised Cheryl that he would try. "I don't know why SHIELD brought me back," he said mildly, "but I'm glad they did. It's given me a second chance to make something of my life_ — _and to help the people who were kind to me."_

 _Thomas Constantine spun around and glared at John. "Help them? Like the way you helped that Harper girl during the Games? Hell, you put an axe into her leg." He lowered his voice menacingly. "Like the way you helped your mother?"_

 _And there it was._ It's the same old story _, John thought._ It always comes to back to Mom dying in childbirth. And I can never change that. He'll hold that against me until the day I die.

 _He looked at Cheryl and shook his head. In that moment, he realized that he had spoken the truth earlier; he_ was _reconciled to his father's hatred. More than reconciled_ — _he honestly didn't care. He had Cheryl_ — _and he had Kaldur, Thor, and Di, and maybe even Logan._ They _all saw his worth, even if his father didn't. What were the words of a bitter old man who had never done much of anything versus the trust of five honorable people?_

 _He stood up._

" _I'm sorry to have bothered you, Dad," he said evenly. "I'll be off now."_

 _Thomas Constantine narrowed his eyes. "Where to?" Then, as if he thought John might mistake the question for concern, he added, "Not that it matters to me, mind you. I just want to know if you're gone for good or if you're planning to come back."_

 _John shook his head. "No, Dad, I won't be coming back. I'm going_ — _" He stopped. He had almost said,_ I'm going to SHIELD's base, _before it occurred to him that his father might not be above informing Hydra of its location, especially if there was money or liquor as inducement. So, instead, he shrugged. "I don't know where I'm going; I'm just going. In a few months, I'll be eighteen, anyway. It's time I made my own home."_

 _Cheryl gave him a concerned look but didn't protest._

" _Don't think you're going to get anywhere with that Prince girl," his father warned. "She's miles above you, and she won't give you a second glance. Hell, she was willing to bleed you like a stuck pig during the Games."_

Because I asked her to _, John thought. He shrugged again. "Maybe that's true, Dad. But there's a revolution going on, and I can still follow her into battle when she asks me. It's enough for now."_

 _His voice was steady_ — _almost confident_ — _and he could see that his father didn't like it._

 _Thomas Constantine clenched his jaw. "Then you should get going," he said brusquely. "No point in dragging this out. I sold or burned most of your junk when you went off to the Games, so there's nothing in this house for you."_

" _Right." John found that he honestly didn't care about that, either. He turned to Cheryl. "I'll be in touch when things settle down."_

 _She nodded. "Please take care, John. I love you."_

" _Love you too, Sis."_

 _And as he walked out of the cabin, John shred the last remnants of his old life._

* * *

 _BAM!_

The shield was knocked out of John's grasp and went flying across the training room, landing with a loud clatter against one of the weight machines. He, along with everyone else in the training room, jumped. He turned toward Thor and raised his hands in a _what the hell?_ gesture. The Asgardian lowered the practice sword back to his side.

"You were daydreaming," Thor said with a grin. "I thought it time to wake you."

John ran a hand over his face. "Well, you certainly succeeded."

"Care to tell me where your thoughts had taken you?"

John shook his head. "Nowhere important," he replied honestly. "I was thinking of my father. We said our goodbyes a couple of days ago, and I probably won't see him again."

"Oh, aye." Thor nodded. "I saw your father on the interviews during the Games." He grimaced. "Interesting man. I do not think you will miss him much."

John smiled. "I think you are right."

"Then perhaps we can return to training? You are adapting to the new body, but there is more we can do to make you stronger yet." Thor extended the sword hilt toward John. "We can begin with your sword handling."

John gripped the hilt. "You're the boss."

* * *

For the next two hours, Thor put John through a series of exercises, some with weapons and some using only John's body. It was steady, grueling work, but also satisfying. Outwardly, John knew he didn't look very different. He remained thin and wiry, his muscles compact. Inwardly, though, he could feel strength he had never known before, and he was certain his reflexes were getting faster.

"You are thinking less and reacting more," Thor said at one point, as they took a break to drink water.

John frowned. "Is that good?"

"Oh, aye." Thor nodded. "It is one sign of a warrior — that he trusts his instincts. See those two?" He pointed toward a training mat where Diana and Kaldur had begun sparring with bo staffs. "They can do that with their eyes closed — their reactions are that much a part of them."

Looking at the pair from Four, John wondered whether the bo staffs were the _only_ thing they were reacting to. Di was grinning lightheartedly, despite her responsibilities as leader, and once or twice, Kaldur laughed out loud. There was an ease between them that never used to be there, John thought, as if they had come to some kind of unspoken accord. He had noticed lately, too, that they seemed to spend more time in conversation.

He felt a twinge in his heart and immediately chided himself for it. He liked to think that he had a special bond with Di after what they had been through in the Games, but he knew he had no claim on her. ( _And she'd rip me up one side and down the other_ , he thought, _if she ever heard me say that any man has a_ claim _on her.)_ Whatever was happening, it hadn't changed the way she treated John. She still encouraged him, asked for and listened to his opinion, and teased him liberally when an opportunity presented itself. She was as much his friend as ever.

Thor cleared his throat.

John looked up to see an amused expression in the Asgardian's blue eyes.

"I do not think your thoughts were with your father this time," Thor said.

John smiled ruefully. "No, they weren't."

Thor glanced fondly at Di as she swung the bo staff at Kaldur's legs. Kaldur's leap wasn't quite high enough to clear the staff, and he tumbled to the mat with a grin.

"It may not seem it," Thor continued, "but in some ways, Diana is no different than the rest of us. For all of her certainty and the counsel of her mother and aunt, she is still trying to find her path in life. We all are."

John turned to Thor and raised an eyebrow. "So now you're a philosopher? This is a side of you I haven't seen."

Thor chuckled. "Oh, aye, John. Philosopher, warrior, poet… I am a man of many talents." He paused, then reached out and punched John lightly on his upper arm. "But most of all, what I am, at this moment, is your _trainer_. So get back to work."

* * *

John ended his training session by stretching. It was a practice he had picked up from Kaldur, and he liked the way it made his body feel after a hard workout. It eased the tension in his muscles and calmed his mind as well. The training room grew quiet as everyone left, leaving John alone on the mat, modulating his breathing and holding a series of stretches for a minute or two each.

"I hope all this battle training doesn't mean you're giving up on your illusions," a voice said. "You have a real talent for them."

Startled, John looked up to see a girl sitting on one of the weight benches. Well, not so much sitting as hovering _over_ it. _Neat trick_ , he thought. The girl was curvy, with dark eyes and long, black hair, and there was something vaguely familiar about her. He searched his memory.

"Zatanna?"

She smiled. "Hi, John."

Zatanna Zatara had been one of the trainers in the Avenger Games, specializing in illusions. She'd helped John hone a couple of his vanishing skills to the point where they'd earned him a respectable score in his assessment — a better score than he had ever dreamed of receiving, to be honest.

He rose to his feet. "It's good to see you."

She laughed. "Tell the truth, John. You were trying to figure out who I am just now."

"For a minute," he admitted. He grinned sheepishly. "But you can't expect me to remember much of anything that happened right before I went into the arena. I was terrified." He walked over to her, studying her levitation. He couldn't figure out how she was doing it; she made it look effortless. "I never had the chance to thank you for your help," he added, "so I'll say it now. _Thank you_. I appreciate the time you took with me — especially when a lot of people had written me off."

She looked him in the eye. "Diana Prince didn't write you off."

"No," he agreed, "she didn't. I still don't know what she saw that made her bring me into her alliance, but I will forever be grateful for it. It changed my life."

"Is that why you're training so hard with weapons now and not practicing your illusions? You feel you owe her something?"

There was no judgment in her question. She sounded as though she genuinely cared, which made John want to give her an honest answer.

He shook his head. "I don't feel like I _owe_ Di anything. I've paid my dues and then some. I'm fighting Hydra with her because it's the right thing to do. And as for my illusions - well, I haven't practiced them because I'm afraid to see how much skill I've lost." When she raised an eyebrow, he clarified, "When SHIELD brought me back, my body felt foreign. My coordination was gone — I could barely walk, let alone do sleight of hand. I've been working on the big muscle groups, but I haven't done much with my fine motor skills."

"Well then, don't you think it's time that you did? Imagine how much better a warrior you will be if you combine combat skills with illusions. You'll drive Hydra crazy."

Zatanna's dark eyes were sparkling, and John found himself smiling in return. "Is that an offer to train me again?"

She ended her levitation, plopping down onto the weight bench. "Damn right it is."

He grinned. "Okay, then. Where do we start?"

She studied him as if taking some kind of measurement and then pursed her lips. "Have you done _any_ illusions since you came back?"

He shrugged. "I did a basic camouflage illusion when we rescued Tony Stark — you know, trying to blend into the background? It worked pretty well, although it seemed to wear off over time. In the end, I still had to fight some of Hydra's soldiers because they saw me."

Zatanna nodded. "I think that's a good place to start. Camo is useful, especially if you're going to continue infiltrating Hydra locations. Why don't you show me what you've got? After that, if we have time, we can work on a few other skills requiring more dexterity, like making objects vanish."

"Sounds like a plan."

And so, after two exhausting hours with Thor, John launched into another training session — this time with Zatanna. She was every bit as demanding as the Asgardian, but far prettier and a lot more fun. He found himself laughing on several occasions and a couple of times he even wondered if she was flirting a little. They worked on his camouflage illusions, with Zatanna showing him how to make better use of light and shadow. He circled the training room multiple times, doing his best to blend into the equipment.

"That's good, John," she said after an hour. "I feel like your focus is getting better. Let's try it a couple more times, paying attention to the overhead lights, and then we'll switch to—"

 _ **BOOM!**_

The floor shook under John's feet, and white dust drifted down from the ceiling. He spun around the room, looking for the source of the noise. He saw nothing.

Zatanna clutched the bar of one of the weight machines. "Is that from the mines?"

John shook his head. "No. That was a bomb — somewhere in the facility."

She frowned. "Are you sure? Don't they blast when they're bringing up coal?"

"I'm from Twelve, and I worked in the mines, Zatanna. I know exactly what coal-blasting sounds like. Believe me: that was a bomb."

"You think Hydra found us?"

"Hydra or some remnant of the Capitol out for revenge — doesn't matter which. The bombs will kill us either way."

She didn't appear convinced. "I don't know, John. There was just the one blast and—"

 _ **BOOM!**_

The floor shook harder this time, and an alarm went off.

She nodded. "Okay, that _was_ a bomb." She paused and then added, "So what do we do?"

John didn't hesitate. "We get out of this room and start checking the base. If there's only a few of the enemy out there — Hydra or the Capitol — we fight them off. If the numbers are overwhelming, we get to the transports."

"Are you sure we can't just hide in here and wait it out? I can make us both invisible — or as close as."

John shook his head. "You're good, but I don't think even _your_ illusions can stop debris from a bomb. We need to move."

She nodded reluctantly.

John scanned the training room for weapons and came up empty. It was ironic, he thought, that a place intended for combat practice had very little _real_ weaponry in it. No ICERS, no swords, just a bunch of bo staffs that would be awkward to run with. He picked up the shield he had been using earlier and tossed it to Zatanna, then retrieved the wooden sword. It wasn't sharp, but it was heavy.

"Let's go," he said.

Zatanna nodded again, her dark eyes large.

John cautiously opened the door to the training room and peered around its edge. There were three green-clad figures in the hallway. "Hydra," he whispered.

"How many?"

"Three in front of us. God knows how many in the facility."

She rested her hand on his upper arm and spoke into his ear. "I think now might be a good time for the camouflage illusion. It'll get us past them and let us figure out if there are more."

"Sounds good." As much as John would have liked to eliminate the three in front of them, if fighting brought on more, it wasn't a good idea.

Zatanna squeezed his arm and skirted past John into the hallway. He watched as she used her camouflage illusion to fade into the shadows, then followed, doing his best to call up the skills they had just reviewed in training. At least there was no need to be silent. The soldiers were yelling, alarms were blaring, and there was the sound of gunfire not far away.

They passed the first soldier. The man was heading to the training room with a bomb in his hand and never looked twice. John watched as he disappeared into the room and then turned back to the hall. He guessed that Zatanna had passed the second Hydra soldier, although he couldn't really be certain. Her camouflage was extremely effective.

 _ **BOOM!**_

The blast occurred just as John was moving by the second soldier, and his concentration wavered. The man paused and narrowed his eyes, peering uncertainly at the place where John stood. His green-gloved hand moved to the knife on his belt, and John didn't wait to find out what the man would do next. He swung the training sword as hard as he could into the side of the soldier's head. The soldier's eyes rolled back, and he toppled to the ground.

The third Hydra soldier spun around to stare at his fallen comrade and then directly at John. There was no doubt that John was visible now. Before the soldier could move, however, there was the loud clang of a shield, and the man, like his comrade, fell unconscious.

Zatanna reappeared, still holding the shield with both hands. She grinned at John.

"Let's go," he barked.

She nodded and they ran down the hall.

 _ **BOOM!**_

It felt like the blasts were coming more frequently, and he could hear more shouting. He and Zatanna sped around a corner and nearly collided with Kaldur and Diana.

"John," Di said, the relief evident in her voice. "Was there anyone else in the training room?"

He searched her and Kaldur for injuries and breathed out when he saw none. "No. We were the last to leave. There's a Hydra soldier there now, and I'm pretty sure he's planting a bomb, so we shouldn't go back that way."

Kaldur nodded. "Hydra has discovered the base," he said bitterly. "It's an invasion."

"Any chance of beating them back?"

Di shook her head. "No. We must evacuate. Kaldur and I are looking for survivors so we can help them to the transports."

"And Thor?"

She shook her head again. "We have not seen him."

John heard the tension in her voice and rested his hand briefly on her shoulder. "I'll come with you," he offered. Then, he turned to Zatanna. "Can you use your camouflage illusion again to get to the transports on your own? I'm going to help Di and Kaldur here."

She opened her mouth as if to protest but then looked at him as he stood with the Fours and nodded. "Yes. I can see that you are needed. Stay safe, John. All of you: stay safe."

John gave her a brief smile, then turned to Di and Kaldur. He could see that Di was formulating their next steps.

He was ready.


	26. Chapter 26: Superfriends

**(A/N): Hello, friends! We're sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger for the last chapter (not that sorry) but we'll make it up with a multi-character chapter! :D**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed (especially marathon reviewing! :D) and to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41. We're very proud of our writers and the work they've put in to develop their characters and storylines :)**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Six - Superfriends**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

 **Kaldur Ahm, formerly of District Four**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Ultimately, leadership is not about glorious crowning acts. It's about keeping your team focused on a goal and motivated to do their best to achieve it, especially when the stakes are high and the consequences really matter. It is about laying the groundwork for others' success, and then standing back and letting them shine." -_ Chris Hadfield

* * *

The chaos of the evacuation reminded Kaldur sharply of the sirens and the fear that had surrounded him and Thor when Hydra had attacked SHIELD.

The explosions across the base were ringing in their ears, but it was only five minutes after Kaldur and Diana joined John that part of the wall nearest them simply exploded, knocking them all off their feet.

Diana had been closest to the wall and took the brunt of the explosion, but thankfully, the bomb itself had fallen further into the base. Their injuries were related mostly to the debris and blunt force of being thrown across the hall. As John attended to Diana, Kaldur scrambled to his feet and saw, to his dismay, that there were people on the other side of the wall as well.

Most of them were dead or dying, and Kaldur felt his chest tighten as he saw it.

Part of him knew that there was no hope for these people, that he had no medical training, that there was a more important task for him at the moment. He and his companions needed to get out of the hallway, out of the building. They were no use to the war effort if they, too, were dead.

And yet he found himself pausing at the scene of misery before him when he locked gazes with one of the dying.

Harper Row.

She was trapped beneath part of the wall, and before he could think about it, he found himself at her side, straining to shift the debris. She gasped in pain as the chunk of wall moved, obviously moving some part of her body that did not want to be moved.

"Don't worry," he said, even as his chest tightened on seeing the extent of her injuries. There was too much blood, not to mention the crushed hips and legs… "I will not leave you as you left me, Harper Row."

She let out a noise that sounded like pain, but it was not the same as the ones she made before. That change was enough to draw his attention, and he saw that she was shaking her head.

"I… I didn't mean…" Harper closed her eyes, her face an ashen gray. "It was an accident," she breathed out.

Kaldur's eyebrows furrowed, and he unconsciously leaned closer. "What?"

"The mine… it shouldn't have… I didn't want to…" A shudder passed through her before she looked up to met his gaze. "Please. I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to go off."

For a long moment, Kaldur searched her gaze, ignoring Diana's prompting that they needed to leave in favor of looking for a lie in Harper's eyes. When he could find none, he nodded slowly and gave her the warmest smile he could muster in the circumstances. "I believe you," he said.

Harper let out all her breath, the relief obvious in the set of her shoulders and the shine to her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Then be at peace, Harper Row," Kaldur said gently, even as he got to his feet. He could see she was fading; it wouldn't be long now. "Your soul returned to this life to tell the truth. You have told it."

Harper smirked at that. "You have no idea," she breathed out, her voice a bare whisper before, at last, she was gone.

Kaldur closed his eyes and shook his head before he turned on his heel and rushed after Diana and John. He had delayed enough, and he knew better than to risk his allies' lives any further.

Still, as they reached a SHIELD transport and rushed inside, filling it to capacity, Kaldur couldn't keep his mind off of the loss.

War, Kaldur knew, had its casualties — but he didn't think he would ever get used to it.

He had been trained for battle, though he had been trained to fight, and he had dealt death since returning to life in this new body. He had brought buildings down on Hydra and had seen others toppled in battle, but he had never actually been inside a facility under attack like that before. It had been chaotic, like riding out a hurricane in nothing but Garth's flimsy boat, and he was glad to be in a SHIELD transport now instead of in the halls coming down around him.

He always mourned the losses in battle, and it was so much deeper now that he knew so many names. Even the SHIELD agents that had once been faceless were closer to him than before, no longer minnows in a shapeless school but people that he saw every day. Even if he still didn't trust SHIELD and hadn't forgiven them for their atrocities, theirs was still a loss that sat heavily on his soul.

And there were others, faces that he knew outside of SHIELD. He had mourned Carol's loss during the attack on the Capitol, and he had seen Caitlin to her rest. Now, he had seen Harper Row to her ancestors, and he couldn't help but watch the group in the transport and wonder who among them would be left when the war was over.

He was glad to have Diana and John with him, though he had no idea where Thor had gone. Thor had left earlier to help train some of the younger children who were part of the Tahiti program, so he had likely boarded a different transport in the evacuation. And Kaldur found that he couldn't help but feel anxious for anyone he didn't see with his own eyes.

"You look troubled," Diana said. She was seated next to him in the transport, but until then, she had been speaking with John. Now, she turned her attention to Kaldur and rested a hand on his arm. "I know it cannot be easy to think of what Harper Row said to you…"

Kaldur shook his head. "It is not that," he said. "I bear her no ill will. I saw the truth in her confession, and I will not deny her forgiveness as she goes to rest with her ancestors."

"Then why do you look so forlorn?"

He let out a slow breath as he considered how best to answer her. He had always tried to be honest with Diana, and he wanted to honor that pattern, but he also was not entirely sure of how to explain himself. Finally, he nodded as he decided on the words he needed. "This is precisely why I warned you against alliances before the Games," he said. "Perhaps it is not quite the same, but I wanted to warn you against promises of safety you could not keep — and against the loss of the arena."

"And now we are in war, and there are losses all around us," Diana finished for him, nodding along.

He tipped his head her way to acknowledge her. "Aye," he said slowly. "And as Queen Mera always told me, I have too much heart to be untouched by tragedy."

"She is wise to see it," Diana said, then gave him a teasing sort of smile. "All I could see when you spoke against alliances was stubbornness and pride."

"And you told me as much," Kaldur said, smiling despite himself.

Diana's smile widened, and she nodded. "And now, without the eyes of the Capitol bearing down on us, without the threat of the Games upon our necks, you seem to have found your tongue. John and Thor both have extolled your talent with words and your unique gift of inspiration."

"They overstate it," Kaldur said, waving her off. "John is just as prone to such pronouncements." He looked past Diana to catch John's gaze and smirked. "He has too much heart as well."

John chuckled and held his hands up between them. "Hey, say what you want, but I don't think I can keep up with you when you sound like you swallowed a book of poetry half the time."

"Thank Queen Mera for that," Kaldur laughed. "She was always insistent that we should learn more than the ways of the warrior and the ways of the sea."

"I'm sure if I ever meet her, she'll be so eloquent I'll look like an idiot in comparison," John smirked.

"Nonsense," Kaldur said. "My queen has always seen past words into the true soul of a person. She would recognize a kindred spirit in you, John."

John raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth turning up at the compliment, though Kaldur doubted he realized it. But Diana beside him looked almost weary at Kaldur's pronouncement, her teeth worrying her bottom lip before she said, "And you are sure you want to give me your support, diver? I know your heart lies with Mera."

Kaldur frowned at that, thinking of the conversation he and Diana had not that long ago, when she had come to his room while he was sleeping. It had been short enough — simply Diana's declaration that she wanted to unite Four and that she would take the first opportunity presented to her to return there, followed by his own promise to follow her as long as she _let him sleep, for Poseidon's sake._

She had laughed at that, but now, he wondered if she hadn't seen the truth to his promise beyond the tease.

It was true that his loyalty would always be to Mera, to her gentleness and to the love she had shown him in shaping him when he had no family of his own. But his loyalty to Diana grew with every day they spent together.

It was more than loyalty, really. He _knew_ that Four must be united, and he believed Diana was the only choice. This was what Odin had chosen him for, and it was what had carried him through so many battles. He still had much to do, and if that meant he had to carry the future queen of Four to her home himself, he would do it.

He found himself unconsciously shaking his head before he had even shaped his response to Diana. "No," he said slowly, "Mera, for all the good that she has done, cares not for a throne. She leads not from a position of power but by her quiet example, and she would keep it that way." He looked up to meet Diana's gaze. "You, on the other hand, lead from the frontlines of the battle. And you have already shown unity with Atlantis when you saw me to my end in the Games. Mera and Arthur belong to the divers; we need someone who belongs to _Four_."

Diana nodded at that, still looking thoughtful, though she said nothing further, and Kaldur was content to leave her to her thoughts. He hoped that he had earned her trust by now, that she would find a way to speak her mind. But for now, it was enough to find that she _listened_ to him, that she turned to him for advice.

It was a welcome change of pace.

Instead, he watched the other occupants of the transport. Completely by chance, Kaldur and his group had managed to board one of the last transports to leave District Twelve, and therefore, the little craft contained the new director and his SHIELD agent shadow, Agent Skye. Agent Coulson was also on board — one of the few SHIELD agents that Kaldur had come to believe had anything like a soul, though admittedly, that opinion was helped by Thor's defense of the man. Charles Xavier was there as well, along with a pair of tributes from last year: Kurt Wagner and Kate Bishop. And his apprentice, Raven, had her own charge: Clark Kent, restless even under sedation.

While some on board had been injured in the bombing, Kate and Clark were the only members of their group to be unconscious, though Kaldur could see no injury on them. He remembered what Diana had said about Pamela Isley and how she had been sedated for the journey from the arena to Twelve and wondered if this was a similar situation. It was a reasonable assumption to make, considering Xavier's presence.

 _Not everyone survives the arena with their mind intact,_ Kaldur mused, watching first Clark in his restless sleep and then Kurt as he held onto Kate's hand, his thumb rubbing over her knuckles. Kaldur watched the action for a long moment before he smiled to himself. _And yet there is always hope, even in war._

At the moment, Coulson and Logan were discussing the state of affairs, since SHIELD's main base had just been destroyed, and there was now effectively a homeless army that needed a place to stay. Both men, of course, wanted to put the army where it would be most effective, though Kaldur was glad to hear that they were also considering the safety of the non-fighters in the group: the ones working in labs and even the youngest members of the Tahiti program.

"I'm with Wayne on this. We can take the kids to Seven. The district is huge, wild," Logan said. "Anyone in Tahiti or any victors that need the distance and shelter can stay there. I've got a place in mind tucked way out in the woods that can act as barracks if it looks like Wayne's place won't cut it — but even that ain't big enough for an army."

Coulson nodded thoughtfully. "We'd want to keep the groups relatively separate anyway," he said. "Hydra wants to get their hands on any former tributes or victors they can."

By that time, Charles had made his way over to look at the readouts in front of the little group; one eyebrow was quirked up, and he wore a pleased smile on his face, the same kind that Arthur used to wear when he would work with Garth and Kaldur on their form and their training. He nodded to himself and then looked up at Logan, the look more subdued and professional now. "It will do them good to be more removed from SHIELD, too — especially some of my more delicate cases."

Logan nodded. "Alright. I'll need to make a call or two, but we can send the kids ahead to these coordinates," he said, scribbling down something that Kaldur didn't see before he turned back to the readouts in front of him — now trying to find a place for those foot soldiers that did not have the same target on their backs as the former Game participants did. It was a long process, marked by plenty of calls between the transport and Seven, and the other occupants of the transport simply stayed quiet to allow Logan the space to work.

A radio nearby was relaying reports from the various districts, and it wasn't long before Diana made her way over to the group. Kaldur wasn't surprised to see it; Diana had always longed to be where she could make the most impact, the biggest difference. But the tenor of the conversation shifted when Diana clearly heard the report from Four: Hydra was once again trying to push into the district's borders, the third push in less than two weeks. Reports indicated that the forces of Four were holding the line, but Kaldur knew that even the best warriors of Asgard, Atlantis, and Themyscira could only do so for so long.

"You want your army to make a difference?" Diana said, cutting across Coulson even as he was pouring over a map of District Five. "Send them to Four."

Coulson frowned up at Diana and shook his head. "We have a battle plan in place, and right now, we can't afford to redirect troops that are going to defend other districts. I'm sorry, but out of all the districts in Marvel, Four is probably the best suited to defend _itself_."

"Which is why they hope to topple it quickly," Diana argued. "Hydra knows that Four is strong, and they know you have not come to our aid. How long do you expect my people to fight and die alone while SHIELD turns a blind eye? We are warriors, not gods! We cannot fight unaided forever!"

Despite himself, Kaldur almost chuckled. He didn't expect anyone, especially not a SHIELD agent, to last long until Diana's fury. Kaldur had experienced it too many times himself not to know its power.

"And we're already working under a set battle plan," Coulson said with a bit more fire as Logan turned to Skye, though he kept his gaze on the argument.

"Has Odin put out a call for help?" Logan asked Skye quietly, while Diana and Coulson went back and forth.

"One sec," Skye said, balancing a laptop on her knees as she worked to pull up all the communications that had been coming in to SHIELD forces. When she found one from Four, she pulled it up for him to read, and he frowned a little deeper, clearly in thought.

"Get me satellite images with troop movement," Logan said softly, clearly trying to keep the conversation between himself and Skye alone, even in a close transport. "Please."

Still, Logan's words carried, and Kaldur found himself focusing on their conversation and body language. He wondered if the new director could see just how nervous he seemed to be making his shadow. As Skye worked, Logan shifted and leaned closer, his arm nearest Skye resting on the back of her seat as he looked over her shoulder. The little SHIELD agent blushed slightly and straightened up, only to stammer for a second when Logan turned his head to meet her gaze, asking her for more definition in one area of the map.

Kaldur smirked quietly to himself. _He must not realize her attraction,_ he thought, shaking his head. And he wasn't the only one to notice the little interaction, judging by the look on Kurt's face as he looked toward his friend. Kurt met Kaldur's gaze for a moment, and the understanding of what they saw passed wordlessly between them before Kurt returned his attention to his unconscious friend and Kaldur returned his to the planning and preparation happening just beyond him. Still, it was one more thing to humanize SHIELD, and he tucked that thought away into the many other observations he had of the gentler side of SHIELD and its agents.

"Can you get Hill on a secured line for me?" Logan asked, and Skye nodded quickly, typing away on her laptop.

"We have a plan already in place," Coulson said. "One that director Fury plotted out himself. It's solid."

"Yeah, and the conditions have changed since Fury came up with it," Logan replied as Skye opened up the line. "Put it on speaker."

"Already done," Skye said a moment before Hill's voice filled the little transport.

"I understand that you have your concerns, Logan. You made your point when you brought it up earlier," Hill said without preamble. Her tone made it clear that this wasn't the first time they'd disagreed about something like this, either, and Kaldur found himself wondering if Logan would have sent aid to Four by now if not for SHIELD's old guard. Logan certainly seemed to understand power and honor more than any in his position ever had, and he'd made his support for Diana and her ways clear in the Capitol… Kaldur shook his head to himself, even as Hill continued to press her argument: "Right now, our forces are focused on Five before we lose it. Hydra is staging to invade Seven, too, and I've got almost all of our extra units splitting between Five and Seven now—"

"Send them to Four," Logan said, cutting her off.

"That's … Logan, we _can't_ —"

"You're being reactive. For all it's worth, we've already lost Five," Logan said in a sharper, louder tone that held a hint of a growl to it. "You'd be sending those troops off to die for no reason, and if you send a big group to Seven, you'll give away the fact that we have interests there. Seven will be fine, but Diana's right: they're trying to wipe out Four and their warriors. Back them up."

"We should have a full council discussion on this, _Director,_ " Hill barked back. "We can't just reroute—"

" _Then I'm overriding you!"_ Logan shouted. His roar of frustration was enough that Kate flinched through her sedated haze, and the transport rang with silence save for Logan's demands. " _Pull back_ from Five and Seven, send them to Four, and do it _now_! We're not playing by Fury's playbook anymore. That was compromised before you even got to use it! So do what I asked you to do, damnit!"

"Logan," Coulson said, cutting in. "The whole group agreed to defend Five — yourself included."

"That was before," Logan said, taking the computer from Skye and turning it so Coulson could see the troop movements. "Hydra is trying to make Five a killbox, and if we have a large force there, we won't be _able_ to back them out and go anywhere before they're slaughtered. Then the whole damn bunch of Hydra's forces marches on Seven with no one in the way to slow 'em down. If we can get Four out of the fire, then _maybe_ we can get some support from people that have been fighting the Capitol, Hydra, and SHIELD — which are the same thing to a lot of people on the ground. Let me remind you, since you seem to have forgotten: SHIELD was loading down and training Hydra soldiers for years without knowing it, and before that, they were the Capitol's strong arm. We need Four's backing just as much as we need Eleven's, and we're not going to earn the trust of either, let alone their support, by asking them to die for us without doing the same in return."

Diana looked over the edge of Skye's computer at the troop movements. "Eleven is doing the same work our warriors are doing: holding Hydra at bay. They are our neighbors; we could easily support each other if we had the ability to contact each other and reach out," she said.

Logan nodded and then turned his attention back to the call with Hill. "And neither of 'em is gonna give you a second look unless you show _your_ loyalty first. I'm not going to leave them out to dry when Hydra's trying to take them off the map. And I'm already _flamin' tired_ of having to explain myself on my every thought. The troops go to Four _first._ "

The transport was silent for a long moment.

Finally, Hill cleared her throat on the line, though when she spoke, it was clear she was livid, and her words were crisp. "Yes, sir. I'll issue the order immediately."

"Thank you," Logan said, looking suddenly more tired as Skye closed the connection to Hill. He took a deep breath, held it for a second, then blew it out quickly before turning toward Diana. "I need to get our guys settled in Seven. If I could hand it off to someone else, I would, but this isn't something I can give to someone in a SHIELD uniform."

Diana was already nodding, agreeing to the request before Logan could make it. "You are in luck; John, Kaldur, and I will have no problems in my home district, so long as your troops are willing to listen to me."

"Sure they will," John said, drawing their attention. "I mean, look at the evidence, Di. You've already got people willing to follow you here. On your home turf? That should be easy, comparatively."

"Looks like you got it figured out. Coulson'll make sure whoever's there knows to follow your lead, seein' as it's your turf," Logan said, then gestured toward John with one hand. "We'll drop you off in Four with the main troops, then I'll be right behind you with the wave of troops from Seven to box in Hydra. We can cut 'em down from both sides and make _them_ fight on two fronts."

"Aye," Diana said. She was already drawing herself up, though Kaldur doubted she was entirely aware of it. "And we will make them regret their decision to fight with the warriors of Four."

Logan smirked. "I know they will."

Diana gave Logan a curt nod before she returned to her seat between Kaldur and John. Logan had Skye put through another call, making the necessary arrangements without breaking his stride.

The knowledge that they would soon be returning home had already effected a change in Diana's countenance, and Kaldur couldn't help but smile at her. "This return is long overdue," he told her softly. "Didn't I tell you to unite our district when you saw me last in my true form?"

Diana smirked. "You did," she agreed. "And did I not promise you I would do that — and that you would see the ocean again?" She placed her hand gently on his arm. "Soon, you will touch the salt of the waves again, and what reason will you have to follow me when you have your salt elsewhere?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with laughter she hadn't yet allowed herself to express.

"I suppose I will simply have to fall back on the pledge I gave you that I would follow you," he chuckled.

"I suppose," she agreed, smiling at that before she turned toward John, allowing her smile to broaden. "I cannot wait for you to see Four with your own eyes, John," she told him.

John couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm. "The way you three talk about it, I'm pretty excited myself."

"It's home," Kaldur said with a warm smile. He leaned back, already yearning for the smell of the sea, for the feeling of salt on his lips, the sound of the waves. It had been so long since he had been home, and even in this body that had never known Four, he found that his heart was racing and his lips were turning up in a smile despite himself.

Four was home for his soul, if not his body, and he could hardly wait to be reunited with Atlantis.

* * *

 **Kara Danvers, formerly of District Five**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _Life is a dangerous thing." -Alija Izetbegovic_

* * *

If Kara was being honest, she was getting just the slightest bit stir-crazy.

Just a _little_ bit.

She understood that they had to stay in the manor to be safe and all, but…

Hide and seek was all fine and good for the little ones, but it could only entertain a sixteen-year-old for so long. Kara could tell the other older kids were restless as well. Babs was spending hours upon hours sparring with Kitty, Kara, Alex, Scott, or anyone who happened to walk by the training room. She'd even begun trying to teach the tinies basic self-defense, but the short attention spans of the kids made it difficult to get far into a lesson.

Hopefully, today would provide some new entertainment — several people from one of SHIELD's old headquarters would be arriving soon. Their base had been destroyed, apparently, and that meant SHIELD was looking to send several people to safety — including Clark. Alex had gotten the update on the radio — the only question was where in the district SHIELD would get them set up.

Kara couldn't wait to see Clark again. The updates they'd been getting from Charles Xavier had been positive and hopeful, and Charles believed that seeing Kara would be very good for Clark's recovery. A couple other ex-tributes were also en route with them — Kurt Wagner and Kate Bishop, though Kara hadn't had the chance to interact with either of them.

Unfortunately, they weren't due to arrive for a while, so Kara was currently trying to pass time in the library. She strolled along the shelves, idly tracing a finger along the spines. The library smelled wonderful, old paper and ink mixing together to create something that made things feel just outside of reality. She closed her eyes and continued trailing a finger along the books and pulled one out at random. Most of the books in the library were older, but this one was _ancient_. The pages were beginning to yellow, and the blue cover was beginning to fade to a dusky gray, but the embossed gold letters were still clear.

 _The Three Musketeers_

Kara sat down in one of the squashy armchairs next to the window with a gentle _fwump_ and eased the cover open gently, wincing slightly at the soft creak of old bindings. She began to page through the book. The flow was a little heavy, the language a little flowery, but it was an intriguing adventure full of swashbuckling and intrigue.

"Aren't you a lucky adventurer, d'Artagnan," Kara said quietly. "Off doing who knows what and getting into all sorts of mischief."

Kara started to get more drawn into the book, so much so that she almost didn't hear the slowly-increasing volume of… something.

Almost.

It was almost just a sense at first. When she thought back on it later, after all the chaos had died down, the sound had probably infiltrated her subconscious before she'd really heard it.

It started off as a very faint hum. The hum began to grow louder and louder as Kara stood up from the chair and set the book down. She peered out the window and was greeted with the sight of three jets flying in formation in the sky.

As she watched, one jet peeled away from the formation and went into a nosedive on a trajectory that pointed uncomfortably in the manor's direction.

It didn't look damaged in any way, though. It looked...

The realization washed over Kara, and the fight-or-flight rush of adrenaline sent Kara sprinting towards the library doors.

She threw them open and burst through, flinging them closed behind her and tearing down the hallway.

" _ALEX!_ " she screamed, rounding a corner and bouncing off the opposite wall just in time for an explosion to shake the mansion. Even around the corner, a wall of fire and heat rolled after Kara, tossing her down the hallway. She tumbled and rolled a good twenty feet down the hall before she came to a stop in a heap on the floor.

She pushed herself up on her arms, coughing at the tendrils of smoke that were beginning to drift down the hall. Her head was spinning and her ears were ringing, but gradually, the sound of screams reached her ears.

 _Oh, god, the_ kids _._

Ignoring the stinging on the backs of her arms and legs that undoubtedly meant that nasty burns had been acquired, Kara stumbled to her feet. She staggered as she got her feet under her, catching herself on the wall.

"Alex!" she yelled again, her voice hoarse and rough.

" _Kara!_ " There was an answering shout from somewhere down the hall.

Kara glanced towards where the shout had come from, then back towards the orange glow around the corner. No one else had been in the library with her, but who knew how much more of the mansion was damaged? Kara half-limped, half-ran back down the hallway.

When she cleared the corner and entered the main hall, she was almost knocked off balance by the heat of the inferno now blazing in the library. Or what used to be the library, at any rate. She threw her arms up in front of her face as she ran parallel to the blaze.

"Is anyone here?" she called, squinting into the fire. "Is anyone trapped?"

There was no response, which could mean either something very good or very bad.

"Kara!" someone called. Kara whirled around, her back to the flames. Kitty was running down the hall towards her, one arm up as she drew closer. "Are you okay?!"

"I'm fine. I'll be fine. Where are the kids?" Kara asked, grabbing Kitty's arm. "Was anyone close?"

"The kids were all having lunch; they were in the dining room. I don't think anyone else was around, but the house is damaged. I saw things starting to get real shaky, so we don't have much time."

Kara slumped a little against Kitty in relief as they hurried away from the flames. "Okay. Okay. Let's get away from here. We need to get the kids out. We need to get Alfred out, we need... we gotta.." Kara's head was spinning slightly.

"Hey, it's gonna be fine, just—" The crash of a window made them both flinch and turn around just in time to see someone wearing HYDRA greens come through the now-shattered window.

The girls glanced at one another. "Left," Kitty said, and took off towards the soldier, running along the left side of the hall, Kara but a moment behind on the right. The soldier barely had time to fumble his weapon up before Kitty had launched herself at him, knocking him flat on the ground. Kara came up as he fell, her momentum providing extra force as she delivered a kick to his head that would have made a football player proud. Unconsciousness was immediate, and concussion was inevitable.

"That can't be the only one," Kara said. "We need to make sure the kids can get out. We need to call for help." A thought struck Kara. "Kitty, they're on their way here. Clark and Charles and the other tributes. We need to let them know."

"Alex has a transmitter, right?" Kitty asked. "I'll go and help get the kids out. You go find her, or find the transmitter, and get. Out." Kitty took Kara by both arms and stared into her eyes. "If Hydra is on their way, then you cannot try and do something on your own. Get the transmitter and meet us outside in the woods."

Kara nodded. "Don't worry. I'm not crazy." The girls took off in opposite directions; Kitty heading for the other end of the manor and Kara heading for the staircase.

The manor shook with a second explosion, and Kara almost fell up the last couple steps, catching herself on the railing and hauling herself back upright to keep running.

 _Please please please please YES_

As she skidded into Alex's room, the transmitter was on the nightstand next to the bed. Almost without stopping, Kara snatched it up and darted back out into the hall, practically ricocheting off the opposite wall and flying back down the staircase three steps at a time, her momentum carrying her over the last six without touching the floor. Pain forgotten, adrenaline taking over, she raced towards the other end of the manor.

The manor was crumbling now, cracks spiderwebbing their way along walls. Chunks of ceiling were beginning to fall like hailstones as Kara headed for the kitchen, reasoning in the small part of her mind that wasn't entirely occupied with _RUN_ and _FIRE_ that they would probably be trying to get the kids out near the dining room.

She tore through the dining room, seeing all the plates abandoned with meals half-eaten and cannoned through the kitchen doors. The heads of Scott, Barbara, Alex and the last couple of kids heading through the door whipped around, and Scott made like he was going to come for her in the split second before he realized who she was.

"Did everyone make it out?" Kara gasped. "All the kids?"

Alex crushed Kara in a bear hug. "Yes, everyone is fine."

"Ow ow ow _ow_ ," Kara whimpered as her burns very suddenly and painfully reestablished their presence.

"Almost everyone, apparently," Alex muttered as she pulled away.

"I'm fine for now," Kara said, wincing. "I got your transmitter." She held up the device for Alex as her sister shepherded her towards the door.

"Kara, you are amazing," Alex said. "Go ahead and get calling. SOS ping will get you through. I need to get everyone hidden."

Kara turned on the transmitter as they made it out into the afternoon air. She activated the distress signal and began speaking. "Mayday, mayday, this is Kara Danvers, does anyone copy? We have an emergency situation; we need help, _please_."

There was but a moment of static before a female voice came through. "Miss Danvers, go ahead," they said. "You're on with the director and at least part of the board."

"We need _help_ ," Kara repeated. She glanced over at the gaggle of kids all huddling together, Alfred, Barbara, and Scott around the outside of the group. No life-threatening injuries, but she could see cuts, scrapes, and blood on most of them. "Wayne Manor … it's _gone_. We … we managed to get the kids out, and Alfred, but we have plenty of wounded. No one knows where to _go_ , we don't have a way out of the district …" Kara was beginning to shake slightly, and she knew her adrenaline was starting to run out.

"What happened?" A male voice now, one that she recognized as Logan.

"They flew a _plane_ into the _house_ ," Kara blurted out hysterically. "They just nosedived right into the library, and the whole place started coming down. There was smoke and fire everywhere; we saw one HYDRA soldier inside, but there probably are more on the way …"

"Any more planes?" Logan asked.

Kara glanced up. The other planes were specks in the sky flying away. "No … they seemed to circle around as the building burned, then they all headed south." Kara felt a gentle hand on her arm and looked up to find Kitty there. Kitty took a deep breath in, then let it out slowly, not talking to avoid extra radio chatter. Kara realized she'd been getting close to hyperventilating and tried to copy Kitty.

There was talking on the other end. Kara could hear Coulson and Logan discussing possible places to go before Logan brought up an interesting point: the planes had only hit Wayne Manor.

"That's where they thought our backup base was," she heard Coulson say.

"Or that little _weasel_ Jason Todd went running back to Hydra to tell them where we were," Kara said, seething.

More quiet discussion on the other end. Then, "Danvers, I might have a place for you. Give me a minute."

Kara and Kitty made their way over to the other group. Tears were flowing fast down the kids' faces, and Scott and Barbara were doing their best to calm them down and do any field first aid they could.

"Logan says he has somewhere for us to go," said Kara. "I'm just waiting for him to get back to me here."

"Okay," said Alex, steeping easily into Agent Danvers mode. "Let's get under cover in the woods for the time being." She and the other teens began gently marshaling the kids towards the treeline a few dozen yards away. Kitty and Kara followed, still waiting and listening.

In half a minute, Logan was back. "Danvers," he said, "I got a place for you. Any orphans or locals you've got with you can show you the back route into the Howlett Estate across town in Seven. You'll go through the woods. Be sure that you stay hidden in the trees as much as you can. There's a gap in the fence that's hidden by some wild roses. Don't make a parade out of it. Go in pairs or small groups; stagger your approach. Wounded and youngest first. The staff already knows you're coming. Make sure to keep it quiet."

"Okay," Kara said. "You said the kids'll know where to go?" Kara drew on her sister's calm and collected energy and mirrored it.

"Yeah, they should. Mrs. Hopkins used to try and feed them out of the back door years ago," Logan said before ending the call.

"All right," Kara said, looking at the kids once the call was over. "I have a very important job for you guys, but I need the best of the best for it. Who's the best of the best?"

All the kids raised their hands, accompanied by a couple sniffles. "Awesome," Kara continued. "Who can show me the way to the Howlett Estate?"


	27. Chapter 27: Bushido

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We've got another chapter covering the crazy that's been going on since the SHIELD base was attacked, this time with Canucklehead Cowgirl and our newest little Director Stabby ;)**

 **Thank you to our writers for their reviews (seriously, the marathons are amazing!) and especially to TheRaspberryVigilante41 (RIP Wayne Library, for real) and Shinobi001 (you're completely right; we need more Clintasha. In everything. Everywhere. Always.)**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Seven - Bushido**

 **James 'Logan' Howlett, 24th Victor and SHIELD Director**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _Matters of great concern should be treated lightly." Master Ittei commented, "Matters of small concern should be treated seriously."  
_ ― _Tsunetomo Yamamoto, Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai_

" _A warrior is worthless unless he rises above others and stands strong in the midst of a storm."_ ― _Tsunetomo Yamamoto, Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai_

* * *

Coulson had immersed himself in the newest troop movements as he and Maria Hill began making the more detailed decisions on the new marching orders ― via text this time. The troops were already re-routing to Four as Logan had ordered, and for the first time since this mess had started up, Logan was entirely confident that he'd made the right call.

While Skye worked to get a line to Smitty ― and held off Bruce Wayne's call ― Logan got up and made his way across the transport to make sure that the little group they were dropping off in Four was armored up with the best stuff they had.

Diana was putting her head together with John and Kaldur as Logan silently pulled out the spare sets of body armor they'd packed for _him_ to use, then went a step further to take off the armor he was wearing and offer it to Diana. "This doesn't have the weaknesses that the basic armor does," Logan explained. "I can get more when we land in Seven. You'll need this _now_."

"I have my _own_ armor already," Diana said, scrunching up her nose.

"Yeah, and this'll do a better job," Logan said, still holding the armor out to her. "When you step out of this transport with your allies and the troops start following you, you're automatically a target. They'll need you to live long enough to lead 'em." He held her gaze until she finally, almost grudgingly, took the armor.

By that time, they were already starting their descent to Four, where Odin's finest fighters were waiting to greet them.

Logan didn't waste any time, simply making sure that the fighters that needed to go to Four got off the plane and where they needed to be before he redirected ― this time to get the rest of the group set up in Seven away from the fighting. He'd come back to Four once that was done.

They'd barely gotten into the air again and moving fast when Skye cleared her throat. "Ah … Bruce Wayne …"

"Yeah, I know," Logan said, letting out a breath as he made his way over to sit next to her again and take the comm. "Any word on Smitty?" Logan asked, rubbing one hand over his face as he listened to what Bruce had to say. It was, of course, as Logan had guessed.

"No one can find him, but Jean-Paul is looking himself," Bruce replied. "It looks like most of the cutting crew has disappeared into the woods."

"Sounds about right. Probably down by the Three Sisters," Logan said under his breath as he thought about what the men there would have done, given half the chance. He let out a breath as he weighed it out.

"There's still plenty of room at the manor," Bruce offered. "And I have a quiet wing that would be good for the two under Xavier's care."

"Yeah, we're right behind you, but I don't know. Loggers prolly won't give you any trouble if they're where I think they are. Probably oughta go ahead and send someone out to the cutting camp six miles outta town to the northwest. Hasn't been used in a while, so it oughta be empty and part overgrown."

"Even those _from_ Seven aren't used to living like that," Bruce pointed out, and Logan was opening his mouth to argue it when Skye cut in.

"I know you two are making some progress, but I just got an SOS from a secured SHIELD line," Skye said as she put Bruce on hold and patched in the call ― opening it to those still in the transport. "Miss Danvers, go ahead," Skye prompted. "You're on with the director and at least part of the board."

"We need _help_ ," Kara said from the other end of the line, her voice shaking and the distress clear. "Wayne Manor … it's _gone_. We … we managed to get the kids out, and Alfred, but we have plenty of wounded. No one knows where to _go_ , we don't have a way out of the district …"

"What happened?" Logan asked, leaning forward as he ran through every camp he knew of … though most of them were admittedly too rough for _kids_.

"They flew a _plane_ into the _house_ ," Kara said, her voice breaking and rising to a slightly hysterical pitch before she launched into a more scattered, panicky recounting of what, precisely, had happened.

"Any more planes?" Logan asked, once again putting his head together with Skye and Coulson, too ― looking at what radar was telling them about air traffic and satellite images providing proof of what Kara had said.

"No … they seemed to circle around as the building burned, then they all headed south," Kara replied, getting her bearings back with the directed questions.

"We can't use the logging camps," Charles said, cutting into Logan's thoughts.

"We can't really use Seven at all if they know we're there," Coulson added.

Logan narrowed his eyes at the satellite images. It was shocking to see thick black smoke curling up from the spot where Wayne Manor had stood, but as he reached past Skye to zoom out and pan across the district, Logan noticed something fairly important. "They _only_ hit Wayne Manor. Not the town hall where we have SHIELD agents, not the warehouses that have air support and radar …" He glanced up to meet Coulson's gaze. " _Only_ Wayne Manor."

"They thought that's where our backup base was," Coulson said, wide-eyed.

"Or that little weasel Jason Todd went running back to Hydra to tell them where we were," Kara said, sounding like she'd have punched Jason in the nose if he'd been in front of her. "He was here not too long ago."

"We can re-route to Nine," Coulson suggested, and though Kurt's head came up at that, Logan was already shaking his head.

"I just need a minute of quiet and a secure line," Logan said as he picked up the line with Bruce ― who had been waiting almost patiently. "I'm gonna have to get back to you."

"Your friends in the woods aren't exactly reachable," Bruce said. "And even if they were close to town, there's still no way to _talk_ to them when they refuse to speak to anyone they don't like. They won't speak to me, and I know they won't speak to SHIELD."

"I know," Logan said. "Just … I'll call you back. Somethin' came up." Bruce had started to protest, but Logan cut him off, freeing up the line so that he could make another call. And for a moment, it was perfectly clear that he wasn't _comfortable_. Logan closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his hand as he placed his call ― the only one so far that wasn't open for the whole transport to hear. "Hello, Mrs. Hopkins," Logan said in a measured tone. "It's James. Is everyone alright?" Logan was sure to keep from meeting anyone's gaze as the head of housekeeping at the Howlett Estate filled him in on their view of all that had happened across town ― and of course, she'd seen it all.

It didn't help that the transport was perfectly silent as they spoke. Logan didn't want to see the expressions on their faces, though he could feel that everyone there was watching him as Mrs. Hopkins gave him the rundown. And, of course, he patiently let her speak until she was done filling him in.

"Mrs. Hopkins," Logan said, "I'm calling to ask a favor. Would you please have Mr. Kenneth and the rest of the staff prepare the house? The orphans that were in Wayne Manor and several others that are headed to Seven right now will need a place to stay. I'd like to open the house to them."

There was a beat of silence before Mrs. Hopkins responded with a delighted sound that had Logan leaning away from the earpiece. "Of course! We'll have it ready when you get here ― you _will_ be staying here, won't you, Master James?" Mrs. Hopkins asked, though she didn't give him a chance to answer before continuing on. "How many rooms do you think we'll need prepared? Shall I open the east wing?"

"All of them, please," Logan said. "We'll need all of them. Eventually. I'm going to send some people your way, but watch the back door. I don't want anyone going in through the front. Please keep the comings and goings discreet. I know you know how." There was a bit more excited chatter from her that Logan quietly listened to before he thanked her and then let out a breath as the line went dead.

"Are you sure you're ready to revisit your parent's estate?" Charles said in a soft tone, though Logan almost glared his way before he went back to the line where Kara Danvers was holding.

"Danvers," Logan said, regaining some of his tone from earlier, "I got a place for you. Any orphans or locals you've got with you can show you the back route into the Howlett Estate across town in Seven. You'll go through the woods. Be sure that you stay hidden in the trees as much as you can. There's a gap in the fence that's hidden by some wild roses. Don't make a parade out of it. Go in pairs or small groups; stagger your approach. Wounded and youngest first. The staff already knows you're coming. Make sure to keep it quiet."

"Okay," Kara replied immediately, her panic beginning to abate as she slipped easily into battle mode. "You said the kids'll know where to go?"

"Yeah, they should. Mrs. Hopkins used to try and feed them out of the back door years ago," Logan told her mildly before he hung up and Skye met his gaze. It must have been clear how much he didn't want to talk about it, though, from how much Skye looked like she _didn't_ want to speak up.

"You … have Bruce Wayne waiting for you. He called back while you were talking with Mrs. Hopkins," Skye said. "But... I can divert..."

"No, he's gonna need to know what the plan is," Logan said before he picked up that line. "Calm down; I had to call someone. It was you or the panicked girl. I picked the girl. You'd have done the same."

"What was so important that it couldn't wait until after we worked out a place to put everyone? Everyone is panicked, Ja- _Logan_." Logan could hear the honest frustration in Wayne's tone. "But unless we can start putting people back on the ground ― I'm telling you, I know there are other considerations to be made, but we need permanency. I can ask Alfred―"

"We can't send anyone to the manor," Logan said in a patient tone that seemed to have Bruce ready to hit someone.

"Logan, I don't care if you have your heart set on Smitty and your friends in the woods. We need to _move_."

"I know. We can't send them to your place 'cause it's not _there_ anymore," Logan said with a little more force behind his words. "Hydra kamikazed a plane into your house, Bruce. It's gone. The kids got out, but it's gone. I'm sorry."

There was stunned silence for a long moment before Bruce finally spoke again ― almost back to his normal tone if not for the slight shake. "Did they get … I'm sure there are casualties. Is Alfred..."

"He's out. He's alive. Outside of that, I can't tell you anything about what kind of shape anyone's in," Logan said. "I already made arrangements for everyone that was there _and_ everyone incoming. Mr. Kenneth will be waiting at the back entrance of the estate. With any luck, they're already makin' their way in."

Again, there was a long pause as Wayne obviously worked to wrap his head around it. Finally, he replied, "Right. I'll get there as soon as I can and see what I need to do to help ― both with moving your people in and getting anyone who was at the manor…" He paused. "We'll coordinate from the ground."

"I'll make sure the pilot goes in stealth," Coulson said, breaking the spell that seemed to have fallen over the group of friends — and with that, Skye went back to work, her focus entirely on her computer.

Logan crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, only mildly looking at what Skye was doing rather than speaking to Kurt, Charles, or Raven ― though at least Raven had the sense to pretend she was minding her own business.

Kurt, on the other hand, had that _look_ in his eyes. The one that meant there was a heart-to-heart conversation boiling on the tip of his tongue that he was itching to pull Logan into. Logan watched Kurt open his mouth once, then again, before pressing his lips together. Logan saw Kurt's nostrils flare slightly in a sigh before Kurt glanced away to look at Kate, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before clasping the unconscious girl's hand.

Kurt had dropped it for now, but Logan knew there would be a later. There was _always_ a later when Kurt was involved.

* * *

The rest of the flight to Seven was quiet, though it had taken more than a few rounds of Logan flat ignoring Charles' questions on his well-being before he let it drop.

Their pilot, Harry Tabeshaw, had a trick or two up his sleeve when he brought them in for a vertical landing ― not too far from the Howlett Estate. They were well-hidden as they started unloading. Kurt gladly carried Kate in his arms, but Clark was a different story. Coulson and Logan maneuvered the stretcher as Raven helped Charles navigate the uneven terrain and Skye carried in all the tech she could manage on her own.

The group moved carefully in the failing light, and as they approached, Mrs. Hopkins and Mr. Kenneth rushed forward to help, though Logan was sure to brush off Mr. Kenneth's insistence on taking over with Clark.

"We have suites set up for Miss Bishop, Mr. Kent, and their support staff. Mr. Wayne was kind enough to tell us what precisely they needed," Mrs. Hopkins said, following along closely and fretting over the state of the young man on the stretcher, even as she still managed to rush ahead to open doors. She did not, however, have to direct him on where to go ― and it was clear that Logan had _guessed_ where they would be going.

Of course, the moment that Logan stepped back from Clark, Mrs. Hopkins stepped in and started fussing over him ― and the state of him. Logan tried to back away from her, but it didn't last long. Not when he saw the expression on her face when she reached out to straighten his collar and rest her hands on his shoulders. "It's about time you came home, Master James."

Logan opened his mouth to protest _oh, so much_ of that statement, but all that came out was, "I have to go back."

She looked equal parts distressed and insulted at his announcement, but Logan used her distraction to get away from the group quickly. Kurt, Charles, and Raven were all staying with Kate and Clark, but Coulson and Skye were following him as he zipped down the hall at a near jog.

"You know you can't leave without armor," Coulson said. "And even considering the size of this place, I'm going to guess you don't have an official armory."

"The armor and weapons that were brought in by some of your men are being stored in the cloak room," Mr. Kenneth interjected, which had Logan making a small adjustment to his course. "You're not really going out to fight, are you?"

"I have to," Logan replied as he turned toward him for a moment. "Part of the job."

Mr. Kenneth made a face that he quickly schooled to a more neutral expression before he rushed ahead to hold the door open for them, then stepped in to assist Logan once he'd pulled his armor out to slip over his head. It was clear that the staff wasn't very appreciative of Logan's choice to go back into the fight so soon, but they also weren't about to argue with him over it.

"Is Mr. Pennyworth alright?" Logan asked as he pulled one of the velcro straps tighter at his waist.

"He's with Mr. Wayne now," Mr. Kenneth replied, insisting on helping, even if it was clear he really had no idea what he was doing. "As I understand it, Mr. Wayne is attending to him personally."

Logan let out a breath but didn't stop gearing up for the run into Four. The reports were already showing that the fight was tight, but win or lose, Logan had promised Diana that he was going to back her and the rest of Four up; he'd be damned if he reneged on that promise.

As soon as he ― and Skye ― were even halfway geared up, the two of them stepped out of the cloak room... and nearly ran into the Summers kid and Gordon's daughter. Both of them looked a little surprised to see him there. And Logan had no idea why, outside of the obvious: the longstanding fact that Logan wasn't supposed to _be_ at the estate.

"On my way out," Logan said before he stepped around them. "You two alright?"

"Fine," Barbara said, catching up a little quicker than her companion. "We got all the kids out ― but we don't know where everyone is supposed to _stay_."

"We're still moving kids in … injured and smallest were first," Scott added, falling into step with Barbara.

"Ask Mrs. Hopkins which rooms are open, then pick yours to stay in," Logan said, then paused and tried to correct the nonchalant answer. "That's what I heard, anyhow." He didn't have time to chat when he had places to be. "Try to keep your movements under cover of darkness. If someone tipped Hydra off about Wayne's place, they'll tip 'em off about this one too."

"Yeah, we're going in small groups," Scott said. "The kids know how to keep quiet."

"Good. Keep em comin'. Plenty of room," Logan said half-heartedly as he stepped out of the side door leading outside.

He didn't make it ten paces ― with Scott and Barbara heading the same way to get more kids ― when a single shot echoed through the trees. Not ten feet in front of Logan's feet, the ground blew up a chunk of dirt and sod. All four of them flinched, and Logan turned to see where it was coming from, searching the surrounding area even with Skye pulling him back toward the house and swearing.

Nothing really looked out of order ― not until a huge, hulking, and overly-familiar blonde stood up from a rooftop not too far down the hill. Logan pulled his arm away from Skye and took a few steps back into the open to watch as Creed raised one hand in an almost friendly wave, then kicked a bloodied body over the ledge.

There was a beat of silence before Barbara broke it with a very flat, "What."

"Don't worry about it," Logan replied just as flatly. "Wasn't for you." Before he could say anything to Skye, though, she was already on her comm, coordinating with Coulson.

"I need someone _now_ southwest of the hill ― only high point visible from the east side of the building," Skye said, barking out the words as if she'd been doing it her whole life.

"It's not a big deal," Logan said, pushing to walk out into the open again, though in a quick move, Skye swept his feet out from under him and practically sat on his chest with one hand on his shoulder.

"Quit fighting me and let me _do my job_ ," she almost growled out, though when Logan smirked up at her, she closed her mouth and very nearly backed off entirely, with a little blush raising high on her cheeks. Instead, she hesitated for an instant, then put her hand back on his shoulder. "You can't go out there until we clear the path."

He held up both hands, and she climbed off of him, blushing brighter until she glared off toward where Creed had been.

"Take it easy," Logan said, moving into a sitting position as Coulson's team swarmed past them, guns drawn. "You _are_ gettin' better at this."

"Shut up," she said, turning away, though he didn't miss the smile that she tried so hard to hide. Skye had her weapon drawn and was watching the grounds as Barbara and Scott helped pull Logan back behind cover. They were waiting for word from anyone on the ground, and they all looked pretty worked up after Skye relayed what she'd seen happen.

The little foursome had barely gotten back to the house and had wrangled Logan back into the cloak room ― because, of course, not one of them would go along with leaving their new _director_ in the open _now_. But they didn't really have long to wait before word from a SHIELD agent came in.

"The guy was Hydra ― no shocker there ― and he had a note stuck to his shirt front," Tripp said over the comms. "Says, _No one gets to kill you but me_. Any thoughts on that?"

"World's weirdest bodyguard," Logan deadpanned, mostly to himself, before he answered Tripp on his comm. "Victor Creed isn't someone to try and psychoanalyze. Don't worry about it."

"Yeah, gonna worry about it anyway," Tripp replied. "Don't get me wrong. Your macho, hard-ass exterior is _great_ for troop morale. But I'm gonna go ahead and plan like the psycho is an issue, just in case he slips a little too close. You know, to make it easier on the rest of us who don't want to change directors like they change underwear."

"I won't lose any sleep if someone gets there before me," Logan said. "But watch your back, Tripp. He's smarter and crazier than you think." He turned toward the others that were still with him. "I have a fight to get back to. You have kids to move, right? Pretty sure we can let this go for now. If he wanted to kill me, he'd have taken the shot."

"You're not going to leave _now_ , are you?" Barbara asked.

"I have work to do in Four," Logan replied. "But I think the two of you can handle the kids an' anyone else that needs help. Tell Mrs. Hopkins I asked you to cover that while she's busy prepping. She won't argue it." He took just a moment to toss a set of keys to Scott. "Hey, Slim ― this'll get you into a nasty section of the basement if you think you might need to set up a jail or somethin'."

"On the off chance Tripp beats you to it," Scott said dryly.

"If Tripp beats me to it, he'll be _arrestin'_ Vic," Logan said. "And you'll need a better cage than the one the Sentinels had." He turned toward Barbara for a moment. "No offense. I know your dad did what he could with the Capitol stickin' their nose in."

"He was a thorn in my dad's side for a long time," Barbara agreed with narrowed eyes. "I know how he is."

Logan nodded at that. "We'll be back before you know it. Don't let the house burn down if you can help it. My other pick for everyone to stay at was the cutters camps."

With that, Logan started to head out ― with Skye giving him a look before she jogged to catch up ― but when they got to the transport, Harry Tabeshaw was more than ready to get moving.

"Things are gettin' hot in Four," Harry reported as they closed up the hatch. "We got a little group to pick up on the way, but once we grab them, I hope you two're ready to go in fast!"

"We'll jump if you got the 'chutes," Logan said as he took his seat, finally taking a moment to breathe now that he was back _out_ of the house.

"We will?" Skye said, wide-eyed.

"Sure. Good practice for ya," Logan replied with a little smirk, honestly enjoying getting a rise out of her. "Besides, it'll be fun." He leaned back and let his smirk go a little more crooked as he put his arm up on the seat next to his. She blushed, and the moment Logan thought he'd made her uncomfortable, he let his gaze drop, and he looked away. It was a nervous tic, the teasing, though he realized that it was probably in poor taste when aimed at someone that was supposed to be working under him. Bodyguard or not, he knew he needed to knock it off.

Besides, with Harry flying them, they only had a couple of hours _tops_ before they'd be in the thick of the fight in Four, and he _had_ to shake off the anxiety he had building in his chest after being inside his father's house after all that time.

It had been the first time he'd set foot on the property, let alone _inside_ the house, since his grandfather kicked him out. From what he'd seen so far, the place was almost like a museum. More so than it had been when he was a kid. His grandfather had preserved _everything_ how it had been before John Howlett died.

The staff had been kind ― and it was disorienting to hear them refer to him as if he met up to his father's position after all this time. He didn't _feel_ as if he did. He didn't feel like he belonged there _at all,_ let alone being treated as the master of the house.

He could almost _thank_ Creed for pulling him out of that spiral of self doubt, because if nothing else, the gunfire and the crystal-clear threat reminded him of who he was _now_ and the fact that even if he didn't know how to handle the responsibilities he had at the Howlett estate, he did know how to fight. And there was one hell of a fight waiting in Four.

* * *

 **Agent Skye, Bodyguard to the Director of SHIELD**

* * *

Most of the time when Skye was working closely like this with Logan, it really wasn't overly hard to get her job done. Pressure was high, he _needed_ the intel she could dig up fast, and he wasn't demanding, but she could focus on the _task_. But … then... conditions like this? This was _not_ one of those times. Sure, pressure was high. Very, very high. But Logan had been almost silent since he'd gotten the last round of reports as they flew toward Four. They'd stopped off in a veritable no-man's land between districts and picked up not only a small group of very aggressive-looking men dressed in head-to-toe black but a rather large gathering of _stylists_. That … was still something that Skye had a hard time wrapping her head around. How very many of the stylists were involved in the rebellion and were beyond competent in a fight.

The special forces group had apparently come in from a rather rough fight in Five and gave Logan a simple nod as they took a seat, while the stylists came in with broad grins. And unlike other times that they got intel on the fly, Logan hadn't asked for anything from Skye as they approached the fight. Instead, he had gone very quiet.

Which … should have made it easier to think. She could hardly focus when he would lean in over her shoulder to watch the reports as they came in. And with him being so quiet … Skye really kind of would have preferred for him to lean over her shoulder again and breathe out a low rumble to ask for well … anything.

Relative to the _mission_ , of course.

"I'll have the latest in just a minute," Skye said quietly to Logan, almost holding her breath until he turned her way and gave her a very muted sort of smile.

"Not sure what good it'll do at this point," Logan said.

"Well … I thought you might want to see what they're doing."

"Won't change the plan when we hit the ground."

"Which is what, exactly?" Noh-Varr asked, drawing both Logan and Skye's attention to him. But it wasn't Noh's question that had Skye paling. It was his unbelievably smug expression ― and the fact that his little girlfriend was watching her with her arms crossed as she aggressively chewed her gum.

"Kill anyone in a Hydra uniform or anyone helpin' em," Logan said.

"That is indeed a simple enough strategy," Noh agreed, though Jubilee still hadn't taken her focus off of Skye.

"What is it _you're_ going to do when we get there?" Jubilee asked, her eyes narrowed as she watched Skye in almost a challenge.

 _No_ , Skye thought to herself. _It's definitely a challenge._ "I'm going to cover the director," she said in her most professional tone, subconsciously tipping her chin up a bit as she said it. "It's my job to keep him from getting killed."

"And you're going into a war zone with him?" Jubilee said with a scoff. "You have to have the worst job in SHIELD."

"Come on, Jubes," Logan said. "You mad it's not you taggin' along and shouting obscenities to the biggest, meanest idiots around?"

Jubilee lost much of her harsh look and smirked at him. "Well. When you put it like that…"

But Logan didn't seem to catch the look that Noh-Varr and the so-called Birds of Prey were giving Skye. On the other hand, Skye knew _exactly_ what it was that set them off: he'd defended her.

Before she could school it, Skye was wearing a crooked sort of smile as she watched Logan and Jubilee tease each other good-naturedly. She couldn't help but think back to other times he'd come to her aid. She was pretty sure he'd been flirting earlier … but in a very understated manner. Which only had her overthinking what exactly that might _mean_ ― or how the heck she could even test that theory.

Her computer chimed, telling her that the newest intel was in. Which … just meant that it was time for work. Again.

 _Of course_ , she thought to herself. _Just when he's smiling and relaxing a little._

As Logan turned her way, his smile stayed intact for just a moment, but he got it under control so quickly that Skye wasn't sure if it was the news or if it was her that had him getting serious again. "Newest satellite images," she said, tipping her computer his way as, again, he shifted his weight to get close enough to look over her shoulder with his arm behind her. Again. Which only had the wheels turning for Skye.

But first … they'd have to live through the fight in Four.


	28. Chapter 28: Possession

**(A/N): Happy Friday! With this update comes a quick announcement: we won't be posting this upcoming Tuesday, as that will be Christmas Day, and our showrunners will be spending time with families and won't have time to update. No one wants responsibilities on a holiday!**

 **With that in mind, this chapter is pretty choc full of goodies, not just from the bad guys but the good guys as well, so we hope this will tide you over.**

 **Thank you as always to the writers who have reviewed (and marathon reviewed) for keeping up the excitement. Thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for always telling us what you liked and to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for rocking our reviews section (and agreeing with our director naming skills!) Thanks to Shinobi001 for your review as well. Just as a note, while we love all our characters, there are a LOT of them, so even if you have favorites, there are lots of other stories and characters that need to be covered too. Every character that has a regular writer is going to get plenty of screentime, and then the side characters that don't have regular writers come up as we need them in the plot and as we showrunners have time to write them. Sadly, this includes characters whose writers have dropped out. Please have patience with us. We're only human, and with a cast of literally dozens, we can only do so much. There *is* more Clint in this chapter, but we don't and can't take requests when it comes to things like that. By the time these chapters come out, our writers are already working on the next round. That being said, we hope you continue to root for your favorites! Just know that we have over a dozen different storylines in each round of chapters, so there are lots of other things that need attention too.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Eight - Possession**

 **Ophelia Sarkissian, Johnny Storm, Victor Creed, Clint Barton, and Scott Summers**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 _Possessiveness is at the core of the abuser's mindset, the spring from which all the other streams spout; on some level he feels that he owns you and therefore has the right to treat you as he sees fit."  
_ ― Lundy Bancroft _, Why Does He Do That?: Inside the Minds of Angry and Controlling Men_

* * *

 **Ophelia Sarkissian, Twentieth Victor of the Avenger Games**

 **Hydra Headquarters, The Capitol**

* * *

Viper was perfectly tickled.

The gamble she'd made in deciding to bring back the boy dear little Jessica had chosen specifically to kill had, in fact, paid off more wonderfully than she could have foreseen.

Jack had been clever enough to broadcast SHIELD's base's position to them, but he had also been sharp enough to bring a little group of two victors, a Tahiti recruit, and the Skull's own wayward daughter right to Hydra's front door on a misguided little _rescue mission._

It was enough to have her outright _smiling_ to herself as she paced the room.

The timing was perfect, too. By the time Jack had relayed his information and Hydra had called in an air strike, the would-be rescuers were too far from Twelve to see the bombers coming in. They had no idea how isolated they were as they approached Hydra's territory ― and they had no idea the trap Viper had waiting for them.

Of course, Viper wouldn't immediately take them into custody. Oh, no. There was too much potential to be found here, too many loose ends that she could tie up without so much as lifting a finger.

She was, for example, well aware of Sin's animosity toward her father. Should she actually find her way to Jason Todd, it would be interesting to see what two trained, angry teenagers could do to the Skull's little boys' club…

Still, she would need to be careful. She didn't want little Sinthea dead. Oh no, not yet. The girl was a key to information as well as a location on the other two in her little group. Viper wasn't so willing to let those girls escape from her clutches. Especially after what had happened with Logan.

And speaking of Logan…

Viper was almost licking her lips as she thought of it. She knew, obviously, that Jack had his own reasons for following the two Wayne children on their little rescue mission. He'd made it quite clear that he wanted to get his hands on either Grayson or Todd again, no doubt still blaming them both for Harley's betrayal. And yet Viper couldn't have asked him to bring a better team into her clutches if she wanted to bait a certain victor into her grasp.

The trap practically set itself.

After all, Logan had shown his weak spot a mile wide from the very beginning. Even in his Games, the only time he had truly shown his colors as a killer was when he moved in defense of the little Bishop girl. It was a shame Viper didn't have her anymore to hold over Logan's head even further, but she already had ideas to use even the fact of her allegiance to Hydra against him.

And then, this Quarter Quell had only provided Viper another avenue to use Logan's heart against him. The Wayne siblings had won the hearts of Marvel, of course… but the _lengths_ to which Logan was willing to go to provide for them told Viper that he would lay himself on the line without question to spare them.

The sweet little Nightwing on his own would get Logan running, especially if he heard that Hydra had brought him back into Jack's orbit. But to add Helena to the mix…

Viper almost laughed to herself. She had put so much work into winding Logan around her little finger. Yes, he had eluded her grasp when the revolution was declared, but now, she was already picking out the right poisons, something to get the girl to break her hard facade and scream for him…

He had such a weakness for young, pretty girls in distress. And he would be _so_ useful to Viper ― as a killer, as a source of information, as a symbol of her power over the other victors.

"You're in a good mood," Jess observed as she came to sit in the room with her, one eyebrow up. "They're not even here yet."

"Simply excited over the possibilities, Jessica," Viper purred before she finally chose the poison she wanted, plucking the vial from her collection with a predatory smile. "It's almost like our little scout picked this rescue team specifically to fit my needs."

"I doubt that," Jessica said, shaking her head. "Everything he does, he does for himself. This was just good luck."

"Of course." Viper smiled to herself as she sat across from Jessica. "The real question will be how far the little _heroes_ get before they fall into our net."

"You're hoping they'll take out a few idiots for us," Jessica surmised.

"I'm very sure they will." Viper leaned back in her seat and laced her fingers together. "I'm so tired of dealing with men who think they are more important than they are."

"You and me both," Jess agreed. "But I thought you wanted to deal with the rescue team yourself?"

"I can be patient," Viper said, waving a hand.

"I know." Jessica paused, her head tipped to the side. "And what about Jack?"

"What about him?"

"He's been useful, sure, but you know I still don't like letting him loose―"

Viper laughed lightly. "If he slips his leash, we'll put him down, my dear. But he hasn't stopped being useful. Look at this little rescue effort!"

"He's going to want to get involved."

"Within reason," Viper said with a quiet smirk. "Really, Jessica, I know you don't trust him, but you're not seeing his _use_. Those darling siblings from Seven alone…"

Jessica held up a hand and shook her head. "No, I get it," she said. "It's psychological. It's damaging. I know. But I think you're underestimating him."

"Never." Viper almost laughed at the sentiment, but when she saw that Jessica was honestly bothered by the fact that Jack was still alive and walking around, she sighed. "If he bothers you so much, take solace in _my_ promise. When I'm finished with him, you can kill him yourself." She held up one finger. "But only when I'm finished with him."

Viper could see the indecision flash over Jessica's expression as she weighed it out. Jessica had never quite mastered the patience that Viper valued, but she more than made up for it in her passion and intelligence where it mattered, so Viper was willing to overlook that character flaw in favor of a trusted alliance in an organization filled with traitors and men with overdeveloped egos.

Finally, Jessica nodded, a slow smile spreading over her own expression. "Fair enough."

Viper smirked and got to her feet. "In the meantime," she said, "we have guests to prepare for. I certainly wouldn't want to miss the show."

That finally got a more genuine smile out of Jessica as she followed Viper out of the room. "That much we can agree on."

* * *

 **Johnny Storm, Eleventh Victor**

* * *

There were a few victors who hadn't gone to Four or Seven ― and those were the ones already in the field.

Not that Johnny even knew he was missing out on anything. He was too focused on trying to find the guy who had threatened his _nephew._

Shayera and John Stewart had been a big help, and Ben was just as ready to crack Merlyn's skull open as Johnny was, but so far… they'd come up with absolutely nothing.

Well… not nothing. That wasn't true. They'd found plenty of Hydra creeps to fight, which was a great way to blow off some steam. But while usually Johnny would be more than happy to blow up a few compounds full of Hydra soldiers, that wasn't where his head was.

He was always known as the hot-headed member of the Fantastic Four. It was a running joke. The Human Torch. Couldn't go five minutes without making a joke, making a pass, or making a mess.

And Johnny had gone along with that. It was nice not to have too many responsibilities, and it was nice to keep expectations low so it could _stay_ that way.

It was also a good way of surviving what the Capitol expected of its victors. It was a way to fight the humiliation and a way to get around their rules. If he flirted with everyone, at least he had a little more autonomy, a little more control.

He'd been counting down the days to whatever Fury had planned, even if he hadn't been on the inner circle and hadn't known specifically what was going to happen. He'd been _ready_ to burn a path through the Capitol ― literally.

And then this thing with Franklin…

There was nothing in the world more important to Johnny than his sister ― and then when Franklin was born, there was nothing more important than him and Sue and their happiness. It was a serious side of Johnny that he didn't let many people see, but here he was, pouring over a map with two serious-looking SHIELD agents and Ben Grimm ― and he hadn't cracked a joke since the compound in Five had been a bust.

"Gettin' quiet, matchstick."

Johnny shoved Ben in the shoulder. "I really thought he was going to be here."

"So we find the next place and blow it up," Ben said. "The way we're going, the four of us will take Hydra out for SHIELD on our own. Big damn heroes."

Johnny had to smirk at that. "Aren't we always?"

"Now you're sounding more like you."

"Aww, shut up, Ben. What do you care?"

Ben rolled his eyes at that ― but it had at the very least broken Johnny out of his thoughts, so he'd clearly made his point anyway.

Johnny rolled his shoulders before he turned back to Shayera and John, who were so close to each other he probably would have told them to get a room if he hadn't been in a mood. The longer the four of them had been working together, the more the facade those two had put up had fallen, until they were just as obvious as Reed and Sue could be.

Well, as Reed and Sue could _sometimes_ be. At least this guy actually _noticed_ the flirting and responded to it.

 _Sue, we totally replaced you and Reed on the Four; I'm still stuck with gooey lovebirds,_ he thought to himself, watching as Shayera leaned over John's shoulder to look at some readouts until she only had to turn the slightest bit to kiss him when he finally looked up from what he was doing.

He cleared his throat loudly to get their attention, though when they turned toward Johnny, they were both smirking hard enough that he almost rolled his eyes all over again. "What have you got?" he asked. "And don't say 'the hots for each other,' because I have heard that joke _way_ too many times."

"Usually directed at you, I take it," Shayera said dryly.

"It was funny the first, oh, eighteen times," Johnny said, smirking as he waved his hand in a lazy circle.

"Lucky for you, my sense of humor is _not_ that terrible," Shayera said before she waved him over. "And I am perfectly capable of multitasking. There are reports near the borders of Ten ― a small group, but it looks like they're poised to head for Four or Eleven, where the fight is the heaviest."

"Sounds like you're plannin' two-fold," Ben said, one eyebrow raised. "If it ain't Merlyn, it's at least something worth hitting."

Shayera spread her hands out. "If I'm going to go on a wild goose chase, I would at least like to have something to show for it."

"And this intel comes from Quartermain's new genius," John added. "The guy hasn't been wrong yet."

Johnny and Ben glanced at each other and shared a nod. "Alright," Johnny said. "Let's try it."

* * *

 **Victor Creed, Eighteenth Victor of the Avenger Games**

 **District Seven**

* * *

The first thing that VIctor Creed did when he made his triumphant return to District Seven was check in with his mother, Victoria. No one outside of those that knew him well in Seven ― _no one_ ― would have thought to watch the frail blonde woman's house. Not for Victor anyhow. But … of all the people on that miserable mudball of a planet, Victoria was likely the only one that Victor had a soft spot for.

He'd been sure to pick up flowers and all of the nicest luxuries he always gathered up when visiting her. His brother Saul was out ― as was his little sister, Clara. Victor sneered at seeing the house more or less empty. He didn't like that they would leave their mother alone. He knocked quietly and let himself in to find Victoria Creed in a rocking chair, staring out the window toward Wayne Manor. She always stared at that damned house when no one was there to distract her, and today was no exception.

But … as Victor knelt down to try and catch her attention, an odd, shrill noise seemed to be growing louder and louder. He frowned to himself and turned, looking out the window in time to see the plane as it augered right into Wayne Manor ― and a moment later, he and his mother watched as a fireball bloomed up into the clear blue sky. Victoria was horrified ― one hand over her mouth ― but Victor never saw it as he broke into a loud, braying sort of laugh. He kissed his mother's cheek and set his gifts for her down on the table beside her before he made his promise to return and then slipped back out.

He'd paid good money to ensure that his mother was safe, and he had no doubt that the well-hidden house built into the very stone of the mountain roots would protect her ― unless, of course, someone was tryin' to dial her in like they did to Wayne.

Even thinking it had him chuckling to himself. Waynes' house was toast, and if there was any proof that someone upstairs was on his side, then the old bat himself would have caught the propeller on that sucker. Him and his stupid butler.

The only thing that'd make his day better was if he could manage to catch the Runt as he made his inevitable trek back to the woods of Seven, too. So, in a fine mood, Victor headed toward the Victor's Village. Even if the kid didn't want to live there, his things were there, and he was pretty sure the boy'd go back for a few sentimental trinkets.

But … not until he'd made sure someone was there with his mother.

After he got into a shouting contest with his dear little sister that ended in her slapping him ― to his delight ― Victor finally shed his long coat and slipped out. First things first, he went toward the still-billowing smoke coming from Wayne's place. "The old man woulda loved to see that," Victor said to himself, letting out a low whistle when he saw how positively flattened the place was up close.

But what he wasn't expecting to see was a glimpse of some of the orphan brats slipping into the trees across the way.

Without thinking about it, Victor decided to watch. His eyes narrowed, and he kept a fair distance ― actually gaining more distance from them the further they went into the trees. The path they were taking slipped through hidden paths ― sometimes into deep cover, other times, using well worn game trails ― but oddly … every step was silent.

The orphans were being secretive, and that wasn't really what Victor was used to seeing, even from these kids. He knew that they'd been staying at Wayne's place, and clearly, they had a plan, but it wasn't until the path arced slowly to the northwest that Victor started to suspect what was happening.

He let loose a noise deeply in the back of his throat before he fell back and went to more conventional paths, intent on giving himself a clear view of the old path that led to the back of the big Howlett Estate up on the hill.

There was only one spot he knew of that _might_ give a clear view of part of the estate, but when he got close to it, he certainly wasn't expecting to see someone there ahead of him … decked out in a dark red bodysuit and covered in thick, black, tactical armor. The stranger had a mask on that covered his whole head, and he was staged with a rifle that had a clear shooting lane to the front and side of the big house on the hill.

But the old man was already dead. That much had been common knowledge in the district. And Victor was _sure_ that Old Man Howlett hadn't given his fortunes to the Runt, but … as he watched over the would be assassin's shoulder, the little group of orphans made their way out of the brush that lined the fence and headed right for the rear of the house.

Only … they weren't the only ones headed for the place. Victor scowled as he watched half of the Runt's old alliance going toward the backdoor seemingly from nowhere ― and then froze as Logan himself stepped out of the the cloaked transport. Victor held his breath for a moment, though his focus was broken quickly when the sniper racked a round into the chamber of his gun. He was taking careful aim, only focused on his quarry, when Victor slipped over to wrench the guy backward, away from his gun.

The sniper rifle skittered to the side, and the assassin swung at Victor with a knife in his hand, trying to make himself enough space that he could take his shot. "What's your problem?" the guy half-hissed. "Don't you want him dead too?"

But that only got a lower sort of growl from Victor as he laid into the guy hard. The knife made its way into Victor's side ― just below his ribs on his right. The hot pain that bloomed up from that wound tipped Victor over the edge, and with a sadistic sort of smile, he took the knife from the assassin and jammed it into his belly ― right through the Kevlar body armor. When the man reached for it, Victor snapped his wrist. And then repeated it with the other wrist.

"We've got a few minutes, boy," Victor said with a sneer. "So if you wanna die quick, you better tell me what exactly your orders were."

* * *

 **Scott Summers**

 **District Seven**

* * *

Scott was still getting the last of the kids from Wayne Manor to the Howlett Estate as the former tributes and victors started to set up in the estate as well. It was a longer process than they had initially expected ― made that much longer by the fact that Scott and Barbara both were more than a little disturbed by what they'd seen transpire between Victor Creed and Logan.

Neither of them trusted Creed to simply leave them alone, so both Scott and Barbara were walking the last of the orphans themselves. Barbara had talked to her dad about what had happened, which was how Mac Hudson wound up playing bodyguard for the kids as well ― and how Scott and Barbara both found themselves a bit more armed than usual.

Head Sentinel Gordon, apparently, had some tasers and other weaponry that he had no qualms about letting them use if it would keep Victor Creed off their backs.

It was a little wearing, making the trip back and forth between the two big houses, especially since the Waynes and the Howletts had set up on opposite ends of a very large district center. But Scott was still running on adrenaline, and he was sure Barbara was too.

Thankfully, most of the final group of kids were the older kids, the ones that hadn't been as badly hurt. Of course, that was all relative, all things considered. Everyone who had been in the manor had bumps and bruises and scrapes; it was just a matter of priority.

But it also meant that the older kids knew the drill. They knew how to be quiet. And they knew when Barbara told them to keep their eyes peeled that she was serious and there was a _reason_ to be wary.

It made for a quieter walk back than the last few trips had been ― which was saying something, since even the younger kids had been so good for Scott and Barbara during the transition. Maybe that was because a half-concussed Alfred "needed quiet and snuggles" the whole way ― but these kids were smarter than anyone gave them credit for.

A couple of the Tahiti kids ― Ororo Munroe and Steve Rogers ― met them outside the Howlett Estate to take over on directing the last of the kids on where to go, and for a moment, Scott leaned against the stone wall at the edge of the property line. He was starting to finally really feel how tired he was, even if he felt like there was still _so much_ to do.

"Are you going to be okay?" Barbara asked when she caught up to him.

"Sure I am," he said with a shrug. "What about you? Not like today has been a picnic for either of us."

"Well," she started to say, tipping her head to the side, "I _do_ feel a little better with some weapons, and we're getting plenty of walking done. But you look a little stressed still."

"Just thinking about what needs doing," he said. "We've got a bunch of hurt kids trying to mix with old tributes and victors. Kara was great, but from what she said about her cousin, I know not all of them are going to be as safe."

"Her cousin is on the far end of the house near the medical setup we pulled together. The doors lock. There are no windows … and they all sound optimistic that they'll come around."

Scott shrugged. "I know. I get that. I'm not writing anyone off. But I'm thinking in the present tense, not in the future when the SHIELD psychologists have gotten everyone back on their feet. These kids need someone to look after them."

"Okay, then … what would you do? How would you set it up? I know some of the victors will be stepping in.… At least, that's what Xavier was saying."

Scott shook his head. "This is the best option," he said. "It is."

"But you want to find a way to do more."

"Wasn't too long ago there was a literal mad scientist messing with those kids, and then they get somewhere safe and that gets blown up? Yeah, I want to find a way to make sure they get the attention and care they deserve in a crowded house full of traumatized teenagers as it is," Scott said. "That's all."

"Then… maybe we should come up with a plan. I'm sure that SHIELD will listen to us ― or that my dad or Mr. Wayne would push if our plan is sound."

Scott couldn't help but smirk her way. "Yeah," he said. "I'll talk to Charles Xavier and see if he has any thoughts on ― I don't know ― I know he has his plate full, but he's a psychologist, and I'm sure he'd know how to approach this, right? Got to be better versed than we are ― and we've just been scrambling to pick up pieces since this whole thing started"

"So … let's go talk to him. He seemed nice enough."

Scott gestured broadly. "Lead the way. I'm just catching my breath." He pushed off of the stone wall when Barbara took the lead, and the two of them fell into step with each other ― in easy, companionable silence.

When they found Xavier, he was just leaving Kate Bishop's new room, where they could see inside that the young woman was curled up tightly with her old alliance member from Nine.

Scott tipped his head. "I'm sure you're busy," he started out, "but we wanted to pick your brain, try to find a way to even out the snags before they come up with merging SHIELD and a house full of traumatized kids…"

"Frankly, I'm pleased that someone else is bringing such things into consideration," Charles replied as he smiled up at the two of them and then offered his hand in introduction. "My usual companion is a few doors down assisting the medical staff."

"I'm sure we'll all get to know each other sooner or later," Scott said. He took Charles' hand. "Scott Summers, by the way."

"Charles Xavier," he replied with a warm smile. "Tell me, Mr. Summers, aside from the normal horrors of war, what have your friends had to contend with here in Seven?"

Scott glanced toward Barbara and then let his shoulders drop. "Hydra sent a scientist here," he explained. "They … set up some medical experiments. I guess they figured no one cared about the kids."

"They figured wrong," Barbara muttered darkly.

"Then I'm glad they had you two to watch out for them."

Scott shrugged at that. "I just know that you have your hands full. Kara told us about her cousin, and I'm sure there's more when you have people going out into an actual war. It's just… we wanted to ask your advice on how to make sure SHIELD's traumatized kids and our traumatized kids don't… clash."

"I always have time for those in need ― and believe it or not, I'm not as busy as you'd imagine."

Scott couldn't help but smile slightly at that. "Great. Then if you don't mind, maybe we can find a place to sit down and make some plans."

* * *

 **Clint Barton**

 **Skies Over District Four**

* * *

Clint had a few priorities.

The first was to make sure that Katie was going to be alright where she was. He'd put in a lot of work helping to get her to SHIELD, and he didn't want half that work going down the drain if this ritzy place couldn't handle her.

The second was to catch up with the rest of the SHIELD operatives heading out to Four so he could be part of the big push. He was of the same mind of a lot of the kids around him ― he wanted to give Hydra a black eye after the stunt they'd just pulled, and he didn't really care _where_ the fight was as long as the fight _happened_.

And the third… was to make sure he was in a transport with Natasha.

They hadn't had that many chances to run into each other, even if Clint kept trying to orchestrate more. After that initial run to pick up Katie (during which time Clint was _thrilled_ to see that Natasha seemed to have missed him and was, apparently, _a lot_ more receptive to his affections than she'd ever been in the Games, though taking the murder arena out of the equation was definitely a bonus to, well, any relationship), Natasha and Sin had been sequestered for a little bit until Coulson had gotten intel out of them.

And then there had been that run Kurt set up to pay back the guy who had screwed Katie over so badly. Nat had gone, and Clint was totally in favor.

But then it seemed to be like that a lot ― he'd be on a mission or she'd be out enacted justice against slimeballs. He'd absolutely been expecting to hear that she'd gone with Sin on the rescue mission for Jason Todd ― so when he heard she wasn't, he didn't waste time.

He found out which transport had Natasha and then grinned as he dropped into the seat next to her. "Fancy meeting you here."

Natasha looked up, but when she saw it was Clint, her expression softened slightly, into something warmer. "That's an old line, Clint."

"Works, though," he said.

She shook her head at that, though she didn't stop him from putting his arm behind her. He was trying to do more thing like that. Seize the day and all. After all, he'd died, and he'd lost her, and that had nearly destroyed him. He wasn't going to mess up a second chance.

But he also wasn't going to delude himself into thinking about anything too far ahead of himself. He knew he might lose her again ― war had casualties ― so he was trying to walk the line between self-preservation and seizing the moment.

And Natasha… well, she had never been all that talkative, though she did lean against his shoulder through most of the trip out to Four. He had to wonder if she felt the same way about the chance they had to be together.

 _Well, one way to find out,_ he said, then cleared his throat, catching her attention.

"So," he said. "It's been go-go-go since we got Katie back, and we haven't really had time to talk, you and me."

"We still don't," Natasha pointed out. "We're on our way to battle." As if to accentuate her point, she gestured with one hand to a few of the other ex-tributes in the transport.

"Yeah, I know." Clint paused, then tried something else. _How's your sign?_ He signed it slowly, carefully. She hadn't known he was deaf in the Games; there was no reason to think she could even understand him.

But then, slowly, she nodded. _I learned a little,_ she signed back to him. _For missions._ That second part was a little delayed, though, so he had to wonder if there wasn't a secondary reason. Which, of course, just had him smiling a little more.

 _Then this is as close to a private conversation as we can get._

 _For now._

Clint nodded slowly. _I told you something before you died._

 _You did._

 _Do you remember?_

 _Yes._

Clint watched her, but she wasn't giving anything away. She never did. _I still mean it._

Natasha paused long enough that Clint wondered if she hadn't understood. He was about to fingerspell when, finally, Natasha signed back to him: _You don't know that._

 _Yes, I do._

 _After a year?_

 _Yes._

Once again, Natasha paused for a long time. Clint could hear his heart hammering in his ears.

 _When the war ends,_ she signed at last, slowly, clearly thinking over her response, _I would like to see what that means._

Clint grinned outright and then leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Love ya too, Nat."


	29. Chapter 29: Patricide

**A/N - Welcome back! We hope your holidays have been good, but now? Now it's time to return to the story at hand! Many thanks to TheRaspberryVigilante41, Shinobi001, and StarkKnightStark for their reviews on our last chapter, we love our multi-character chapters too!**

 **Thanks too, for understanding how our little system works, and to StarkKnightStark, all I can tell you is to go back to the last chapter and read the notes on specific character info and then stick around to wait and see. Most of our 'abandoned' characters have their fates set for them already at this point.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Nine - Patricide**

 **Jade Nguyen**

 **Hidden Hydra Compound**

 **Written by tvfan69**

* * *

 _"It's not about the cards you're dealt, but how you play the hand."_

 _\- Randy Pausch_

* * *

Jade didn't know where to start with her questions — or even when she would be given a chance to ask them. Luthor apparently liked to keep Jade's new little squad together as well as supervised. So far, Jade hadn't noticed any surveillance equipment in their quarters, but that being said, she wasn't entirely trusting that they had total privacy in there.

Their quarters actually weren't terrible, which, given who their hosts were, did come as a bit of a surprise. They had a small living area, with a doorway that led into the bedroom, which was crowded by one dresser, the bunk bed on one side, and single bed on the other. They also had a small bathroom. Personally, Jade couldn't see the purpose in giving them a living quarters that was halfway decent, but she wasn't going to be the one to complain.

Besides, she had other things to worry about.

Lawrence wouldn't hit her when she first woke up, no matter how she aggravated him, and that was an eerily unsettling thought. Luthor had her and Thea work with Merlyn for training, and Lawrence was with Artemis. From what she could tell from across the room, he didn't lose his temper on her sister, not the way he used to, anyway. Luthor had him wrapped around his finger, meaning he was the one Jade really needed to watch out for while she was there.

"I'm going to take a shower." Thea's voice cut through her thoughts. After being herded back to their quarters, the three of them had all gone to their bedroom. Thea never made it up to the top bunk and had instead spent the past few minutes searching through the drawers of the dresser for a clean towel.

"Kay." Jade hummed in acknowledgement, not totally paying attention. She was too distracted by her aching muscles, her body throbbing all over with oncoming pain, despite how light her training had been today.

Another reminder that absolutely nothing about her was the same as it was before the Games.

Still, with Thea out of the room, Jade realized she wasn't likely to get another chance to ask her questions anytime soon. She glanced across the small room at her sister, who was lying on her back on the bottom bunk and staring at the mattress above her as though the wires that held it there were stars.

"What happened to Red?" She tried her best to keep her tone light and conversational, as opposed to demanding answers like she wanted to.

Artemis shrugged but didn't move her head. "Don't know," she answered in the same nonchalant tone Jade was aiming for, though it was clear there were heaps and heaps of emotions behind her indifference.

Artemis never used to have trouble crying, especially not when it was just them.

"Probably still in Ten," Artemis offered after a minute. "Dad took me during the night; I think he slipped me something so I wouldn't wake up."

Jade wanted to let her anger explode at that, at the knowledge that Lawrence drugged her little sister. But she remained calm. What's done was done, and yelling about it now would only make things worse, especially if they were being monitored.

"Mom?" Jades asked instead, though she suspected she already know the answer.

She saw her sister's lip tremble, the most reaction she'd seen thus far.

"Gone."

The answer was simple, and Jade wanted to ask when, how, if it was the sickness or Lawrence that finally did her in, neglect or abuse. A part of Jade wanted to know if her presence in that house, if her help, made any difference. If maybe if she hadn't been chosen for the Games, then her mother would still be alive. And another part of her never wanted the answer to that question.

"She saw the start of the Games." Artemis offered, like some sort of condolence. "She saw you run off, during the bloodbath. You were hurt but, from what we saw, it didn't look too bad, and when they showed everyone who died in the fight, and you weren't there…. She knew you were okay."

Artemis's voice was starting to break, her fear showing through, and Jade felt a pang in her chest as she was reminded of all the nights she had ever scowled at the thought of holding her weeping sister. She thought of the night in the Capitol when Garfield had come to her room and she made him sleep on the floor. She thought of Harper, when Caitlin had been hurt, and despite so much sleep deprivation and trauma working against her, she still managed to put on a sweet voice and lull the injured and panicking tribute into calm. She remembered her own dying breath, the sounds of distant footsteps just barely hitting her ears, and how much she had hoped those footsteps were of Harper moving away and hopefully toward victory.

 _Harper._

That was another question Artemis might have the answer to. And Gar. If Hydra had brought her back, then maybe they had done the same for him somewhere. Her gut twisted with repulsion at the thought of that, of sweet innocent Garfield Logan being turned into a Hydra assassin; she would rather he be dead than twisted into that.

But she was getting ahead of herself.

Artemis wouldn't know if Hydra had done anything to Gar; she might not even know the outcome of the Games. For all she knew, the Games were still going on. She had no idea how long she had been "dead" before she came back.

The Games didn't matter right this second, though she put it high on her mental list of things to ask about. What mattered now was she had, in a sick twist of fate, found herself with a second chance at her life. True, for the time being, she was stuck here with no choice but to be Hydra's pet, but there were still some things she could control — such as the type of sister she was going to be from here on out.

With Artemis's resolve still cracking and Thea still off in the shower, Jade uncurled herself from her seat on her mattress and carefully, trying to muster up whatever maternal instinct Lawrence hadn't beat out of her long ago, moved across the narrow walkway that was the center of their room and crawled onto the end of her sister's bunk.

In response, Artemis didn't do much other than sit up and make room, careful not to catch her hair in the steel cage that supported the mattress above them.

 _Too careful,_ Jade thought. _She's been here a while._

Artemis sniffled, rubbing away at her tears, something so very unlike her. It hurt Jade to see her fight her own fear like this, even though she had spent so many years wishing for nothing more. She had always wanted Artemis to just grow up and face the facts of their terrible life, like Jade had. Now, she would give anything to take that realization away.

Tentatively, she reach out a hand, holding her breath as she laid it on Artemis's shoulder as softly as she could — and then her sister crashed into her side and broke.

* * *

The days passed by, then the weeks, and after that, Jade lost count. She couldn't say if it had been more than a month since she woke up, and she never did find out what happened in the remainder of the Games — not yet, anyway. It was still on her mind, but so was getting out of there with Artemis.

Where they would go, she had no idea. They wouldn't go back to Ten; that would be the first place Lawrence and Luthor would look for them. Maybe they would find a way to District Two; Harper seemed to do just fine on their streets. Of course, all of this was assuming there would still be districts to go back to. Their trainers wouldn't say much about what had been happening in the world outside the compound, but from what they did say, it didn't sound too promising.

Even with part of her focus set on learning about the revolution, Jade made sure to also focus on her new body, on building her muscle and honing her instincts. She needed to get into her top shape as quickly as possible. It wasn't as hard as she'd expected it would be, and it didn't take long before Luthor decided she and Thea no longer needed to be separated from Artemis during training. A part of her wondered if, when they were growing her a new body in a test tube, they had messed with her DNA at all, made it any easier for her to build up and maintain muscle.

Another part of her didn't want to know.

So that was what her days consisted of: survival. And then the days turned over into nights of exhaustion and dead sleep. In fact, it was almost time to give in to that desire to collapse into sleep — but first, she had to finish combing out her hair.

If there was one thing the Games had given her, silly and trivial as it might be, it was that her stylist had managed to work out all the unruly knots of her thick hair, and she liked being able to run her fingers through it. This wasn't the same hair she'd had all her life, of course, and in a way, she was grateful for that. It was like it had been reset — actually, it _had_ been reset. It never went through the years of wiry bristles being yanked harshly through it, never endured the neglect after her mother grew too ill to help her tame the wild knots. It was a silly thing — she might have even once gone so far as to call it sad — but it was something Jade could make herself appreciate. If nothing else, she had control over one thing for the first time in her life.

So here she was, sitting on her bed and combing out her hair while Thea finished getting changed into the pajamas they had been issued — which weren't all that different from their training jumpsuits — and Artemis sharpened her arrows. It was quiet in their quarters — none of them were really big on talking — and so Jade figured that must be why they were able to hear the sounds of shouting voices coming from somewhere else in the compound.

The three of them shared a glance, and then they all reached for their weapons. At first, Jade had been surprised Luthor allowed and even ordered them to keep at least one weapon each in their quarters. But with the countless horrors they could potentially face at a moment's notice, it did make sense. Jade had selected a pair of sais, while Artemis and Thea had wanted their bows and arrows.

Jade was the first to open their door, looking out into the hall for any sign of potential threat. There wasn't any, except for the shouting that had drawn their attention in the first place. It was coming from far down the next corridor, way down, so much so that despite the loud volume of the voices, Jade couldn't make out any of the words. That being said, she could recognize that one of the voices belonged to Merlyn.

 _Interesting._

She looked back at Artemis and Thea; they were standing so close she was practically in the hall already. That settled their vote, then.

The three of them crept their way down the corridor, weapons at the ready, scanning every inch of the dimly-lit hallways. The further along they moved in the compound, the louder the noise became — and the more violent. It was more than just two voices at this point, though it was hard for Jade to tell exactly how many people she was hearing. She still recognized Merlyn's voice, and she knew she heard Lawrence at one point. But the other voices were foreign, and because of that, it was hard to tell how many there were.

Finally, they rounded a corner and came to a standstill, the sight before them nothing short of a very contained bloodbath.

There were six people in the very small confines of the hallway: Merlyn, Lawrence, three other men, and a woman. All of the strangers were dressed in black, with SHIELD insignias on their shoulders. Lawrence was prying one of them, who was wielding a flame-thrower of some kind that made it look like he was literally producing fire from his hands, off of Merlyn — but the other SHIELD agents were trying to prevent that. One has his back to the girls - holding back Luthor's guards single handedly. The guy was a brick wall.

"Hey!" Jade found herself whispering, grabbing Artemis by the elbow and yanking her back, just barely stopping her from rushing around the corner and giving away their position. "What are you doing?"

"They're with SHIELD." Artemis hissed. "They fight Hydra. They could help us!"

Jade stared at her sister. SHIELD wasn't going to help the likes of them; why would they? She was about to say as much, but…. Maybe it was the combined forces of two thirteen-year-olds staring up at her and waiting for her call, but she started to think... why wouldn't they help?

Artemis, Thea, and even Jade… they were just kids. They didn't ask for this; they never wanted to become Hydra's lackeys. She thought about her mom, about that night so far back in her memory, when she had threatened to take her girls and leave Lawrence. She never did. They never got out, never got away, and things only got worse.

 _That could change. Right now._

With her hands tightening around her sais, she nodded her decision, and the three of them burst around the corner.

By now, one of the SHIELD agents — the normal sized man who wasn't threatening to roast Merlyn alive and shouting all sorts of threats about how Merlyn was going to _pay_ — was down. The woman was trying to keep Lawrence off him while also defending herself while the other men worked.

"Try and rip out my sister's heart… Let's find out if you even _have_ one," the man still on Merlyn was saying.

Merlyn's gaze found the girls. "What are you waiting for? Get them!" he commanded them.

Artemis and Thea took it upon themselves to announce that they weren't here to help, each of them nocking an arrow and shooting it into the ankle of their respective fathers.

"What the hell?!" Lawrence roared, but Jade was already there with a fist to counter his words, striking him sharply across the jaw.

She shook out her hand as he reeled from her impact.

"Been waiting a long time to do that," she sneered.

Lawrence glowered at her through the eyeholes of his hockey mask until he ripped it off and shoved the SHIELD woman away from him. "Hope it was worth it," he sneered. His big hands grabbed at the black fabric over her chest, his fingers curling in until he had her lifted off the ground and up to his eye level. "Cause it's the last thing you're ever going to do in this world."

Honestly, she would be okay with that.

But she wouldn't have to be, because the next thing she knew, there was a long black bow being pressed into Lawrence's throat from behind, and he was choking, staggering back until he dropped Jade.

Landing on her feet, Jade barely had enough time to watch Artemis as she dragged Lawrence down to the ground. Then, before Lawrence could even have a second to recover, Artemis flipped her bow upright and nocked another arrow, shooting it into the ground barely an inch from Lawrence's ear.

"Little girl," she snarled at him, stalking a step closer and sending another arrow to the opposite side of his head. "Baby girl." Another step, and another arrow, this one below his left foot. "We're your daughters." Another step and an arrow for his right foot. "Not your dogs." One more step and an arrow just under his left arm. "You were supposed to take care of us." An arrow under his right arm. "You were supposed to protect us."

She stopped this time, one foot pressed down onto their father's chest and her bow strung back with her last arrow aimed at his throat.

"You didn't."

He was pinned below Artemis, nowhere to go and no way to move without her stopping him, and yet even from where Jade was standing beyond them, she still saw him smirk.

"You're not going to kill me, Artemis," he challenged, going so far as to crane his head up until the flesh of his neck was pressed against the tip of his daughter's arrow. "You're no killer."

He was right about that much; Artemis wasn't a killer, not yet. But Jade could see her sister's elbow quiver and pull even further back, her fingers starting to slip. Lawrence, per usual, was too confident in himself. Artemis had every intention of releasing that string and ending this, even at the cost of her own innocence.

Jade lost her innocence a long time ago.

"Maybe not," Jade cut in before Artemis could release her arrow. She marched up and knelt beside her father's head. "But I am."

She moved fast, so fast that Artemis wouldn't have time to stop her — and she wouldn't have time to stop herself. She took one of her sais and jammed it into the hollow behind his temple, pushing until the tip came through the other side of his skull.

Artemis looked at the scene, at her, with absolute horror. "I…" She didn't get further than that, and whether she was trying to thank her or berate her, Jade had no idea — but it didn't matter. Lawrence was dead, and she could hear Hydra reinforcements coming.

"We have a transport outside!" the woman SHIELD agent announced as she pulled her injured partner up to his feet, his arm slung along her shoulders as she took off running with him.

"I'll cover your exit," the brick wall of a man said - and only then did Jade register that it was Ben Grimm … one of the Fantastic Four. A _victor_ standing there in a SHIELD uniform, defending the group.

"You guys comin' or what?" The guy with the flamethrower asked - no, that was _another_ of the Four. Johnny Storm, though at least now the fire made sense. That's what he was known for … outside of his disgustingly overplayed love life.

Fortunately, Artemis was paying better attention and followed after the adults. "Yes, we are," Artemis called back as Jade yanked her sai free from her father's skull, and moved to follow—

 _But, wait, Thea._

She turned, suddenly aware that, aside from the sounds of more Hydra lackeys approaching, the corridor was silent.

There was something on the ground, a long, pale shape covered in black, with Thea kneeling over it.

"Thea!" she yelled in a commanding tone, and the younger girl turned her head to reveal the whites in her eyes had turned red. There were tears leaking down her cheeks.

That prompted Jade to take another look at the shape, and she realized what she should've at her first glance: it was Merlyn's body.

There was a smoldering hole burned in his chest, a black lump lying beside him and covered in dying embers. It took Jade too long to process that the lump was actually the man's charred heart, and when she looked back to Thea, she noticed a wide hole in her right sleeve, the skin it revealed beginning to blister.

She heard another shout from somewhere further down in the corridors. Luthor and whoever else he had on his payroll would be on them any second, and they would not be pleased.

"Thea, come on," Jade pleaded, seizing Thea's arm. "We have to go."

She pulled a little, and Thea got up, her movements almost robotic. "I wanted him dead, but I didn't…." Thea trailed off, but she still followed along as Jade led her around the corner and away from the mutilated bodies of their fathers.

At first, Jade worried they would be cut off, trapped and captured before they could make it out and find the SHIELD transport — or even that they would get out only to find the agents and Artemis had left without them. She glanced back at Thea as she thought about it, as though the rhythmic slap of Thea's feet against the floor wasn't enough to confirm that she was following. Jade kept her eyes peeled for an exit, even though she knew each possibility would likely be rigged with an alarm — or possibly just locked. Eventually, she came across a side door and shoved it open, relieved when it did, in fact, open, allowing her and Thea to stumble out into the night.

As the door clicked shut behind them, closing them off from the chaos of the compound, Jade found her mind coming to a halt. The air in her lungs felt cold and fresh. It wasn't like she'd been unaware that she hadn't been outdoors since the Games, but in the midst of everything that just happened, it wasn't exactly at the forefront of her mind.

For what felt like the first time in her life, and technically it was, the world was silent.

The grass and mud were wet, soaking her bare feet. The earth below her felt richer than she could ever remember it being in Ten, but the peace and stillness was suddenly interrupted by a shout.

"Jade!"

She whirled around, almost missing the sight of her sister — but then she saw Artemis peeking her head around the back corner of the compound.

She took off toward her sister, with Thea on her heels, their footsteps sloshing through the slick mud.

And then, one of the victors seemed to appear out of nowhere, which was almost alarming given his size. "Move it along, ladies!" Grimm shouted. "I got yer back, but I ain't gonna forgive ya if you get me shot." He jerked his head indicating which way to go, but didn't look like he was going to question their motives yet as they rushed to put distance between them and the compound.

They rounded the corner to see a black transport with the side door wide open and Artemis and Johnny Storm ushering them to quickly file in. They did, and the pilot, the man who had ripped out the heart of Malcolm Merlyn, shouted for them to close the door and buckle up. It all happened so fast, with the girls scrambling into the transport and scanning for a seat. The entire inside wall had seat belts installed every few feet. She felt her body slammed sideways as the transport took off at full speed, and she vaguely registered the sounds of weapons in the background. But those sounds soon faded away into the night, and they were left with only the rocky hum of the transport to listen to as the SHIELD agents and old victors took the time to catch their breath. She was very sure they'd have to answer some questions before the flight was over.

But it was at that point that the whole thing, all of that night, began to wash over Jade. Her father was dead. More than that; she killed him. She murdered Lawrence Crock in cold blood and then ran with Artemis to a promise of safety. She had done it. The impossible. They got out.

What was she supposed to do now?


	30. Chapter 30: Nothing to Lose

**(A/N): Happy 2019! Why don't we start things out by DESTROYING THINGS MWAHHAHAHAHA (ahem). Yes. So. This chapter. It's a thing, y'all.**

 **Thank you as always to our writers who reviewed as well as to Slim Summers2002 and to TheRaspberryVigilante41. We love the my-evil-dad-sucks-squad lol!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty — Nothing To Lose**

 **Jason Todd, Formerly of District Six**

 **Hydra's District Six Base**

 **Written By Savy160**

* * *

 _"It might not be a popular thought but not everyone wants to be alive." – Jason Todd in Red Hood and the Outlaws_

 _"But guys like us? The life we lead? We're never truly alone. Every day is a fresh horror. Every memory a nightmare. Even when it is just the two of us… There's a pasty-faced clown sitting in the corner of the room, just laughing… at us." – Jason Todd in Red Hood and the Outlaws_

* * *

 _Everything hurt._

 _Jason couldn't breathe. His lungs were literally filling themselves with blood. Blood was flowing out, but air wasn't flowing in. Ribs crushed, bones broken, lungs collapsed, internal bleeding, and a damn 'J' across his face were how he'd die._

 _He could hear Dick promising him that he'd be alright, that he wasn't alone, but that sort of fuzzed into the background._

 _And then, just as he was starting to accept his death, the whole thing started over again, with Jack and his crowbar and his maniacal laughter..._

* * *

Jason woke up screaming every, single, damned, night that way. If it wasn't the clown, it was Tim or Artemis or Bizarro or a memory from the Red Skull. Every single damned night.

Even Talia was tired of it. When Jason woke up yelling, she simply turned away from him and hissed, "Go."

And Jason obeyed. She'd already gotten what she wanted from him anyway. Besides, she'd had her physician attend to Tim already, so he didn't have anything to talk to her about. It only took a few moments for him to throw on his clothes and slip down the heavily-guarded hallway toward his prison cell.

"Is the princess done with her mutt of a lap dog for the night?" one of the guards sneered.

"At least I'm still getting more action than you ever will," Jason hissed before disappearing into his quarters.

He slid down the doorframe and wrapped his arms around himself. Jason was nothing more than a whore to all of them — except for Tim. Sometimes he wished that he'd stayed dead. Or maybe it wouldn't be so bad living out the rest of his life as one of Schmidt's mindless zombies….

But then, he locked gazes with the figure on the cot.

He could still hear the monster's words: _"One of my greatest pleasures in life is breaking people. I enjoy making them suffer. Watching them fall apart."_

Jason had only one chance left. Nothing could happen to Tim. Not his baby brother, not to the one good thing in his life. Mistakes had already cost him Artemis and Bizarro. He couldn't let them take Tim too. At the end of the day, the only thing that mattered was Tim.

"Jay, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream again?" Tim asked cautiously.

"I'm fine, Timmers. Go back to sleep," Jason replied wearily.

Tim sighed before slipping off of the cot. Dragging a blanket behind him, Tim sank down beside Jason against the door. He struggled for a minute before managing to cover up the two of them with the blanket.

"Don't worry, Big Red. Everything is okay. We're going to get out of here, right?"

Jason didn't even bother to respond. He merely nodded as Tim snuggled into his side. Jason showed no sign of responding as Tim pulled out one of the books he had been gifted by Ra's before Schmidt had killed him too and began to read aloud. Eventually, Jason passed out from pure exhaustion.

* * *

 _"I am at an impasse, my boys. You see, I can only have one victor. There can only be one to carry out my plans of revenge. You both see my dilemma, yes?" Schmidt said. Jason could still remember the way he looked, triumphant as he watched the boys in his 'care'._

 _"Yes, sir," both boys replied. They were used to it by now._

 _"Excellent. You two should be quite pleased with yourselves. Only the two of you managed to meet my expectations. Unfortunately, there can only be one. This will be your final test to prove your worthiness to me. A fight to the death. The champion keeps their life. The more blood you spill, the more dinner rations you receive."_

 _The two twelve-year-olds couldn't stifle their gasps of horror or hide their wide eyes._

 _"Come now, death is only the beginning. Everyone dies. Everyone suffers. No one is exempt. No one. You may begin — and may the odds be ever in your favor."_

* * *

Jason awoke with a gasp. Twice in one night. Damn. He really was losing it.

"It's okay, Jay. It was just a bad dream."

Jason glanced down to where Tim was trying to console him but merely shook his head before getting up.

"Jason—"

"Just go back to bed, Baby Bird. I'm fine," Jason called over his shoulder before closing the door behind himself.

He needed a cigarette. Badly. But without that, he just decided to run, to do something with his body.

Jason practically raced down the hallway, then stopped when he caught sight of the Red Skull sitting alone by his beloved fireplace with a hand clenched around a bottle of brandy and an unlit cigar in the other. He'd never seen the man beside an unlit fireplace before. Schmidt lived for the flames.

The two of them locked gazes, and Schmidt beckoned Jason forward. Jason obeyed and came to stand in front of his tormentor.

"The nightmares haunt you, do they not." Schmidt said. It wasn't a question.

Jason didn't respond.

"The first time I saw you… you didn't look at me in fear. You looked at me in defiance. I knew I had to break you, but you have proven to be difficult. The boy is the only thing holding your sanity together … that and your overwhelming desire to grate on my very last nerve."

"What do you want from me?"

"I have spent years building my secret empire. Years grooming weapons like you. And yet … now, when their services are most needed … you, Jason, are the only one that has managed to be of any use to me." He shook his head slowly. "The others in Hydra play at power, but they cannot hold it like I can. Even Viper let my bastard daughter slip through her fingers to SHIELD."

"Imagine that. Your daughter that's hated you since birth betraying you, of all people," Jason said dryly.

Schmidt's eyes narrowed as he looked up. "Mind your tongue, boy. I thought by now you would have taken that lesson to heart, yet you still allow your mouth to get you into trouble."

"Guess I'm just wired that way."

Schmidt shook his head but didn't get up. "Do not think I do not know how much you hate me. I know you would love nothing more than to kill me, but you lack the strength. Even after everything I've given you to find it." He sneered. "You would die for that child, but you would never live for him. Think about that the next time that you choose to scowl at all of the gifts I have given you. The only thing holding you back from your supreme prize … is that boy."

Jason held his glare, but all he could hear was his own heartbeat — as well as the memory of his own screams as Schmidt branded him.

He couldn't let that happen to Tim. He wouldn't. It wasn't a weakness.

Schmidt leaned back in his chair. "The nightmares have turned into daymares. They haunt you when you're awake and when you're asleep… If you were to admit that you needed my assistance, I could remove those for you. All you need to do is ask, my boy."

Jason narrowed his eyes."The only thing holding me back is the fact that I'm better than you. I'm not like you, Schmidt. I'm nothing like you. I'll never let you turn me into one of your mindless slaves, either."

Schmidt chuckled low. "That's where you're wrong, Jason. You and I, we are the same. Once you free yourself from what's holding you back, you will come to realize that. Then you'll beg me to save you, to remove every painful memory from your mind. And if, at that time, I feel benevolent, then my offer will still stand. But now? When you turn your nose up at my generosity?" He scoffed and gestured roughly. "Leave me and make preparations. You have one last chance to learn, one chance to prove yourself worthy of my care."

"I've already learned everything you've forced into my head."

Schmidt didn't respond. "You will be the one to kill my traitorous bitch of a daughter. Be ready. Do not return until she is dead. Try to leave and I'll take that boy's head instead of the girl's."

Taking his cue to leave, Jason turned on his heel and stalked off, his hands clenched in fists. He ended up in the armory that held his former Red Hood gear.

The Red Hood. It seemed like a lifetime ago.

* * *

" _We'll call ourselves the Outlaws," Jason said._

 _Artemis didn't even bother to look up from where she sat, sharpening her axe. Bizarro continued to play with his stuffed toy, while Tim kept his head buried in his book. Jason huffed before repeating his statement a little louder._

 _"If we say okay, will you sit down and be quiet?" Artemis finally replied._

 _Jason glared at her before looking down at Tim, who shrugged. "I think it's a good idea, Jay. Dibs on Red Robin."_

* * *

Moving away from his old vigilante uniform, Jason headed for the practice targets. He wanted to warm up, get his mind off of things.

But just as he got to the training area, he saw a flash of red and froze in his tracks.

 _No way. No freaking way._ He was literally losing it. There was no freaking way. He had to be imagining it. Jason turned slowly to see the flaming, red locks still there — on the girl standing next to a raven-haired man. Both of them were in Hydra uniforms, but that didn't change the fact that Jason recognized them.

"Okay, I'm definitely losing it," Jason muttered.

But as he watched the two newcomers talking to one of the guards, he saw how close they were standing, and how the exotically beautiful redhead's hand was just above the dark-haired 'guard's ass… There was only one idiot Jason knew of with an ass like that and a girl like that.

He just didn't know how his old allies had gotten here.

"There are already four guards stationed in this sector," the legit guard was saying as Jason crept closer.

"Yeah, well, thanks for the math lesson, but we were sent here," Dick said.

Jason found himself stepping in. "They're on their way to report to Red Skull — and you don't want to keep _Herr Skull_ waiting, do you?"

The guard shook his head and stepped to the side, leaving Jason to lead the way, with a bewildered Dick and Kory close behind. After they had moved to a safer location without the prying eyes of the guards or the cameras, Jason spun around.

"What in the hell are you doing here!" Jason hissed.

"We're here to rescue you," Dick said, as if this was obvious.

Jason was completely at a loss. _No freaking way. Why in the hell would someone risk their ass to save mine?_ His defense system took over as he crossed his arms. "And what makes you think I need to be rescued? What makes you think I'm not with Hydra?"

"Because I know you. You're not one of them." Dick shook his head. "Come on. You can't honestly tell me you _chose_ these idiots."

"Jason, we need to move," Kory said. "The two of you can argue after we find safety, but first, we must rendezvous with Sin and Helena."

"Why are they here?" Jason asked. "What kind of rescue party is _that_?"

"A pretty good one, considering we found you," Dick said, one eyebrow raised.

"I'm pretty sure Sin wants to kill me," Jason said.

"That's only because of her father."

"Feeling's mutual," Jason muttered.

Dick rolled his eyes. "Look, we can play twenty questions later," he said. "Right now? Let's get moving before someone figures out your brilliant on-the-spot lie."

Jason shook his head. "No, not without Tim," he said, already headed down the hallway.

Kory paused and then moved to catch up to him. "Tim? Who is this Tim?"

Striding down the hallway, Jason quietly explained his situation. He ignored Kory's horrified gasp when he relayed the details of his and Tim's abuse. He didn't care what she thought. What either of them thought. Everything was about to be over with anyway. They would finally be free. Finally.

He quickly ushered them into a tiny room, and Jason closed the door behind them. Tim immediately scooted back against the wall and dropped the book he'd been reading. His big blue eyes seemed to grow bigger until Jason stepped into view.

"Jason?" Tim hesitantly asked.

"It's okay, Timmers. They're getting us outta here. Tim, this is Kory and Dick—"

"I know who he is."

Dick smiled at that. "Watch the Games?"

"No, the circus."

Dick froze, his usual smile slipping. "...What?"

Time hugged himself a little tighter, though he looked completely earnest as he met Dick's gaze. "I'm sorry about your parents… I was in the audience that night… You're amazing."

Jason couldn't help the twinge of jealousy at the star-struck look on Tim's face.

"And you were really nice to Jason," Tim added, making his brother smirk.

Tired of the hero worship, Jason shook his head. "Anyway, Tim, I need you to stick to Kory like glue. Dick and I will be right behind you. It's better if we keep distance a bit. Hydra doesn't need to be suspicious of the four of us."

Tim hesitated, but Jason prodded him forward until he followed after Kory. The two older boys waited a few minutes for Kory and Tim to clear out.

Dick was the one to break the silence. "He's a cute kid."

"Yeah."

"You never talked about him."

"I couldn't. Didn't you see his black eye, busted wrist … how freaking scrawny he is?" Jason snapped back. "The mighty Red Skull tortures him to keep me in line. Schmidt killed the rest of my family. I can't let that happen to Tim." Jason had to turn away from Dick's pitied expression. He didn't need their pity. He only needed a way out. Jason eventually glanced back up as he found a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay, Jason. I won't let anything happen to him," Dick promised. He smirked. "Or you, for the record."

Jason shook his head. He was glad Tim had a way out, but he wasn't going to listen to Dick being so … _him_ when he didn't know all the facts. "Dick, there's something else…"

"What, have you got a sister?"

"Shut up and be serious for a second," Jason shot back, which finally got Dick to close his mouth. "Schmidt knows about the orphans back at your house… I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice."

Dick's hand suddenly slipped from Jason's shoulder. "Why would you…"

"I had to."

Dick was silent for a long time as they walked together. Jason thought he wasn't going to speak to him ever again — which he wouldn't complain about, really — until Dick finally said, "He threatened your brother, didn't he?"

Jason nodded. "I'm sorry."

"We'll figure something out…" Dick trailed off, his eyes narrowed. It was quiet.

And just like that, Jason was on high alert. The guards were missing. _Where the hell are they?_

"Dick, something's wrong… The guards are gone."

"Oh no… Kory."

With one look, the two boys rushed down to the transportation bay. Sure enough, every single guard available had to be in there — in a circle surrounding Kory and Tim, who were on their knees with their hands on their heads. One of the guards grabbed Dick and slammed the butt of his rifle into his stomach before throwing him into a heap at Kory's and Tim's feet. Jason took a step forward — only to freeze in his tracks as a pistol was pointed at him by none other than Red Skull.

"I told you what would happen if you disobeyed me," Schmidt said, almost lazily. "And now, the good Lady Hydra has already found your replacement."

Jason followed Schmidt's gaze until he saw the tall, lanky teenager in a SHIELD uniform… but no, he was standing with Hydra. He must have been a plant….

Jason narrowed his eyes as the plant met his gaze and broke into a wide-disturbing smile.

 _It can't be._

Jason could feel his heart hammering harder in his chest as the Joker started to cackle, and he could barely hear what Schmidt was saying about how Jack would make sure his friends suffered for trying to come to his rescue.

But then, Schmidt turned his gun on Tim, and time stood still.

"Wait!" Jason yelled, his voice ringing in his ears.

Schmidt didn't turn his gun away from Tim, but he did turn his gaze. Jason didn't take his eyes off of him until the last moment, when he turned to Tim. "I'm sorry, Baby Bird… Dick will take good care of you, alright?"

With those final words, Jason reached for Schmidt's wrist. Schmidt fired, but with the way Jason had hit his wrist, the shot went wide and the bullet lodged in the ceiling. Jason threw his weight into Schmidt until they had both stumbled back toward the wall. Schmidt lashed out, his blow stronger than Jason had thought it would be as it caught Jason across the back of the head. "Insolent child!"

Even seeing stars from the blow, Jason could still think enough to charge him, and Schmidt rose up to meet his attack. They tumbled into the hallway, and Jason managed to get to his feet long enough to slam his fist against the button that lowered the doors behind them. He could hear the guards desperately trying to reach them. He could only hope that Tim, Dick, and Kory could possibly slip out in the mayhem.

"Tell me something, Schmidt," Jason said as he wrestled with him for control of the gun, "do monsters make war — or does war make monsters?"

"You want to be philosophical? Now? You are the monster I _made_ you to be," Schmidt sneered.

Jason gasped as Schmidt put a knee in his chest, but he reacted on instinct with an elbow in Schmidt's chest. Schmidt dropped the gun, and Jason pulled out the dagger Schmidt had given him so many years earlier.

"Give it to me and I shall allow you to live," Schmidt sneered. "You won't use it. We both know that."

"We both know it's too late for that. I'm going to die down here… But I'm taking you with me."

"You lack both the skill and the fire needed to achieve such a feat," Schmidt hissed.

Jason lunged for Schmidt, the dagger deflected off of the armor covering his thigh. Schmidt sneered, brandishing a knife of his own that had seemed to appear from nowhere.

Jason didn't even feel Schmidt's knife pierce him, just under the left side of his ribs and he was too busy grappling to try again with his weapon. "This is for Bizarro," he snarled. "And for Artemis," Jason said, cutting into Schmidt's shoulder twice. Pulling it back only to slam it back into Schmidt's arm, Jason hissed, "That was for Tim — and this is for me."

Jason's final mark never found its place.

A single shot rang out, and Jason hit the ground with a thud. He barely even registered the pain in his back as he heard the sound of the door slamming open, a mad cackle from the Joker, Schmidt chuckling under his breath, and Tim screaming his name.

* * *

 _He and Tim were back home, having yet another argument about Jason's recklessness… not to mention his smoking. Compared to everything he'd been through with the Red Skull, it almost felt pedestrian, even though Tim was fuming and red-faced._

 _"Why are you always like this! You're going to get yourself killed!"_

 _"You say that like it's a bad thing," Jason tossed over his shoulder as he began walking toward the door._

 _"You promised that you weren't going to leave me!"_

" _And I won't. I just didn't promise that I won't die, Baby Bird," Jason said, leaving Tim alone in the room to wish on a fading rainbow._

* * *

He didn't know how or why, but Tim was there, screaming his name and crying his heart out. He'd somehow managed to slip past the guards, though they didn't seem to be trying hard to stop the kid when all he was doing was clutching onto Jason. Bizarro and Artemis were standing behind Tim, looking on with disappointment. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason could see Dick and Kory being restrained, while Schmidt, clutching his injured arm, shouted at his guards to get them all under control.

"Jason, no! You promised you wouldn't leave me! You promised!" Tim screamed.

"I just didn't promise that I wouldn't die, Baby Bird," Jason barely whispered. "Don't let em bring me back again."

And with that, Tim was pulled off of Jason by his hair by Schmidt. Jason could see the trail of blood flowing from the demon's mouth and body. Jason couldn't help but crack a smile.

"See you in Hell," Jason mumbled — before Schmidt shot him in the head.


	31. Chapter 31: Blood in the Water

**(A/N): Happy Friday! This time, we're kicking off our third round of this story, with John Constantine and his merry band of Fours, written as always by BstnStrng13!**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed both the latest chapters and previous chapters. As we hurtle toward the end of the story, it's nice to know that we're doing right by everyone and providing entertainment ;) Thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for pointing out the best parts and to TheRaspberryVigilante for mourning the loss of a Robin with us. We love you guys!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-One - Blood in the Water**

 **District Four**

 **John Constantine**

 **Written by BstnStrng13**

* * *

" _So powerful is the light of unity that it can illuminate the whole earth_ **." -** Baha'U'Llah

" _For the strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack." -_ Rudyard Kipling

* * *

The pilot set their transport down on Four, uncomfortably close to the fighting. John stepped out of the plane and was immediately surrounded by smoke and women.

The smoke was dense, the product of bombs and gunfire. And the women; well… _These must be the_ _Amazons_ , John thought. _Di's people._

There were at least a hundred of them, standing in a ragged line against Hydra. They ranged in age from fourteen to eighty, and every one of them was wearing armor. Some of it was new and probably bulletproof, but much of it looked old and of questionable worth. As he sorted through the chaos, John saw that, true to his word, Logan had sent SHIELD agents to support Four. The agents were interspersed among the women, their ICERS a sharp contrast to the slingshots, swords and bows of the Amazons. John was willing to bet that the bombs belonged solely to Hydra. The Capitol had done its best to strip the districts of modern weapons years ago, and crippling Four, with its warrior citizens, would have been a priority.

A dozen of the Amazons had retreated behind the front line and were pacing back and forth as they managed the conflict. The expressions of the women were fierce but also frightened, and it was easy to understand why. The Amazons were fighting in a large, open field that sloped down to the beach a half mile away. Hydra had the advantage of the higher ground, and they outnumbered the combined forces of the Amazons plus SHIELD. Di had been right, John thought, about the strategic importance Hydra was placing on District Four, because there were green uniforms everywhere. And many of the Amazons looked bloodied and tired.

He didn't have to turn to know when Di had emerged from the plane behind him. The eyes of every Amazon in the small group lit up, and Di was quickly engulfed by women who wanted to touch her, as if assuring themselves that she really had come. The Amazons spoke frantically, and Di listened calmly, her composure flowing across the group like water across dry earth. The women's anxious gestures soon subsided until only one Amazon was speaking, talking to Di while the rest stood silently.

Kaldur stepped next to John and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Ah, John. You are now going to see Diana in her natural habitat."

John chuckled, in spite of the gravity of the situation. "Is that woman her mother?" he asked, motioning at the Amazon who now had Di's full attention. "I heard a lot about Hippolyta from Di during the Games. She sounds formidable. I think I may be more frightened of her than I am of Hydra."

Kaldur gave John a wry smile and shook his head. "No, that is not their queen. I believe that is Antiope, Diana's aunt."

"Oh." John suspected Di's aunt would be only slightly less intimidating than her mother. He wasn't close enough to hear what the women were saying, but he could see that their conversation was not reassuring Antiope. She pointed angrily at the transport as Logan and Coulson pushed a large equipment crate out the door. Di met her aunt's gaze and shook her head.

Kaldur turned his attention to the battle, his eyes narrowing as he studied the field. After a moment, he said, "The situation does not look good for Four. Hydra has sufficient forces to flank the Amazons. If the women and SHIELD cannot hold the line, they will eventually be surrounded."

"Or pushed down the hill until their backs are against the water."

Kaldur frowned. "I do not understand why the other peoples of Four are not here fighting as well. Unless…" He shrugged off his pack and pulled out a pair of binoculars. "Ah," he continued as he directed the binoculars toward the beach. "This is not the only battle being waged. The Atlanteans — my people — are fighting a small Hydra battalion near the ocean." He handed the binoculars to John.

John pointed them at the spot that Kaldur had been studying and located the battle. "I see it," he said. A puff of smoke further inland caught his eye, and he redirected the binoculars to examine it. "And it looks as if there is a third battle going on over there," he added, gesturing at the smoke.

Kaldur reclaimed the binoculars and raised them to his eyes. "Yes," he agreed, "in the village of Asgard." He remained focused on the smoke for a moment and then lowered the binoculars. "Four is divided," he stated grimly. "The Amazons, the Atlanteans, and the Asgardians — each battle is being fought separately, although the majority of Hydra's soldiers appear to be here in the field." He shook his head. "Those other battles are diversions. This is the true conflict. And there has been no attempt to optimize our forces."

"Who in Four would be in charge of that?"

Kaldur's shoulders slumped. "No one," he replied. Then he looked at Di, who was still talking with Antiope. "Until now," he added.

"Di?"

Kaldur nodded. "Yes. I believe the other peoples — _my_ people included, if I can only speak to them — will follow her. We must speak with her, tell her of the current situation."

He began walking toward Di, and John joined him. The young men gently elbowed their way through the circle of women until they were next to Diana. Before they could say word, the transport lifted and sped away.

"And this is SHIELD's idea of aid?" Antiope was saying as she motioned at the departing transport. "Stopping here long enough to leave us with a diver, a…" She cast a sideways glance at John. "…a miner, and one true Amazon? You are clever and courageous, Diana, but you cannot believe that three people will make the difference between victory and defeat."

Di's blue eyes flashed. "Four is not the only district under attack, Aunt. Logan sent agents here at my request and has promised to return with more when he has calmed the situation in Seven. I believe he will honor his word." She paused, then added quietly, "And I have fought many battles with Kaldur and John, and I know there is much the three of us together can accomplish. We need only hold off Hydra until Logan returns. He will be back as soon as he has addressed the threat in Seven."

Antiope clicked her tongue skeptically and did not reply. John looked at Kaldur and lifted an eyebrow as if to say, _Now's the time_.

Kaldur met John's gaze and then handed his binoculars to Di. "There is something you must know, Diana. There are two additional conflicts being fought with Hydra as we stand here: one on the beach with the Atlanteans and one in Asgard."

Di lifted the binoculars to her eyes, and Kaldur steered her by the shoulders until he was certain she had seen the fighting. She was silent as she moved the binoculars back and forth between the battles. Then, she lowered them. "It is difficult to ascertain from this distance," she said slowly, "but those battles do not appear as…dire…as the situation here in the field. Hydra's numbers are not as large. They are diversions, perhaps?"

"That is what John and I were thinking," Kaldur replied.

"And were you also thinking that the Atlanteans and Asgardians might spare warriors to unite with the Amazons _here_ to improve the odds?" The corners of Di's mouth lifted slightly.

John felt a spark warm his chest. _She's got her game face on._

"We believe there is an opportunity to optimize Four's resources," Kaldur agreed.

Di grinned. "Then let us make it so."

But Antiope wasn't ready to accept such a simple solution. "And how do you intend to unite Four, Diana?" Antiope asked. "We have not fought side by side in the past."

Kaldur shrugged. "I will go to the beach. The Atlanteans will listen to me."

"And the Asgardians?" Antiope grimaced. "Do you plan to send them the miner? Do you think _he_ will have the power to persuade them? He is not even of Four."

John looked at Di, and she gave him an encouraging nod. He was struck with the same feeling he had experienced often in the Games. _I'm not going to let her down_. He tried to forget that he was addressing the sister of a queen. "I am a friend of Thor," he said evenly to Antiope, "the son of Odin. So they may listen to me." Then, his eye happened upon the crate that Logan had unloaded from the transport, and a better idea popped into his head. "But _my_ persuasion may not be necessary. Diana can speak to the Asgardians herself." When Di gave him a puzzled looked, he added, "I'll bet Logan and Coulson left us communication links in that crate. You, me and Kaldur — we can each wear one. Then, when Kaldur and I reach the other warriors, we can open up our comms and you can speak to them directly. They'll listen to you, Di."

She glanced at Kaldur, and the diver nodded. "Now is the time to begin unifying our people, Diana," he said softly.

She was silent for a moment. John watched the breeze flutter her dark hair. Then, she smiled. "Let us make it so," she said again.

The crate did indeed contain communication links. They were small devices that were worn on the wrist, and Kaldur, Diana, and John helped each other strap them on. Then, Di tuned them to the frequency that Logan had been using on the transport.

"This should be secure," she murmured.

John and Kaldur nodded as they checked their armor.

"You must grant me a favor," she continued, "in addition to not getting killed when you navigate your way to the Atlanteans and the Asgardians."

She sounded worried. The young men stopped fiddling with their armor and waited.

"You must keep an eye out for three Amazons," she went on. "They left here two hours ago in search of Hydra's cache of bombs with the intent of destroying it. They have not been heard from." Her brow furrowed as she added, "My mother is among them."

John and Kaldur looked at each other. "Of course," Kaldur said.

She bowed her head briefly. "Thank you."

"Do you have a plan for getting safely to Asgard?" Kaldur asked John. "I am heading away from the enemy toward the beach, but you will have to cross in front of Hydra to reach the village."

John looked at the surrounding terrain. The field was open and not the easiest place to execute a camouflage illusion — but not impossible either. The tall, golden grass would help, as would his recent training with Zatanna.

"I'll do my best to blend into the background," he replied. "Hydra will be focused on the Amazons. They won't be looking for me." He felt for the sword at his belt. "Are we ready?"

Di held up her hand. "One moment, John." She returned to the crate and reached into it. "I know Thor has been training you to wield a sword, but I believe this will suit you better." She lifted her hand, and John saw that she was holding an axe.

He stared at it. "Is that... _my_ axe? From the Games?"

She nodded. "SHIELD must have kept it after you died. It seems Logan believes it will aid you in this battle, remind you of what you are fighting for." She paused. "I think he is right."

John looked at the axe and then into Di's eyes. A dozen memories flooded his brain. Most of the memories from the Games were terrible, but there a few that were surprisingly warm and good. Moments around a campfire, when he and Di had talked as friends, not as tributes.

He retrieved the axe from her. "Now I'm ready."

* * *

 _John awoke to clammy air and the usual hum of the arena's insects. He had no idea what time it was; somewhere after midnight, he guessed, although he couldn't be certain. The fire was down to embers, and Di was sitting by it, gazing at Thea and Raven as they lay sleeping. The young girls' faces looked even younger in slumber, temporarily released from the tension everyone wore in the Games. Di's expression as she watched them was protective, almost maternal. It tugged at his heart._

 _He got up and sat next to her. She arched one eyebrow. "You cannot sleep?"_

 _He shook his head. "Not anymore. Why don't you catch a few winks and I will stand watch."_

" _I am not tired."_

 _He frowned. "Really? You've been up half the night."_

 _She shrugged. "I was thinking of the tributes who remain. Who is likely to come after our alliance, and how they might attempt it."_

" _Oh, I see. Pleasant thoughts are keeping you up," he said dryly._

 _She chuckled. "Necessary thoughts. It is always good to have a strategy. And those two_ —" _She gestured at Thea and Raven. "_ — _are relying upon me."_

 _They sat for a few moments in silence._

" _Do you ever get tired of it, Di?" John asked suddenly. "The responsibility, I mean. You never stop trying to take care of those who are weaker_ — _Thea, Raven, even me. Aren't you ever tempted to say_ the hell with it _and just look after yourself?"_

 _She stared into the dying campfire. "I was raised_ —"

 _He held up a hand. "I know how you were raised," he interrupted. "Daughter of a leader, groomed to follow in her footsteps." He shook his head. "I'm asking_ you _, Di. I want to know what_ you _think_ — _what you feel here." He tapped his chest, over his heart._

 _She continued staring into the fire for so long he thought she wasn't going to answer. Then, at last, she turned and met his gaze. "You seem to believe that leadership is a burden, John."_

" _Isn't it?"_

" _No." She smiled wryly and amended, "That is to say, it is a tremendous burden at times, but it is not_ only _a burden. It can also bring satisfaction and even joy_ — _when you know you have done something good for your people. At those times… well ...it is exceptional. It is possible to draw strength from it."_

 _He looked into her eyes. She was telling him the truth; he could see it. And_ — _besides_ — _they didn't lie to each other. They didn't have time for lies in the Games._

 _He didn't know what to say. The idea that responsibility could be a source of strength was new to him_ — _too new to give her an intelligent response. So he settled for humor. "Does that mean that all those times you've saved my sorry ass, you were really drawing strength from it?"_

 _She turned back to the fire, and her mouth inched up at the corner. "Do not press my sense of duty too far, John. Even I have my limits."_

 _He laughed._

* * *

John was able to sustain his camouflage illusion for the entire journey to Asgard. He passed the Hydra soldiers safely, avoiding them for the most part, but dropping a few when the opportunity presented itself. If this wasn't such a serious fight for the future of Four, he would have been amused by the shocked look on their faces when an axe seemed to materialize out of nowhere — too late for them to do anything about it.

As he and Kaldur had surmised, the situation in Asgard was less urgent than it was on the field with the Amazons. Hydra's numbers were smaller, and the fighting felt like skirmishes rather than an all-out battle. Hydra was keeping the Asgardians just busy enough to ignore what was happening elsewhere.

John needed to find Odin and let the man know what was happening.

He turned on his communication link. "It's John. I'm in Asgard."

There was a crackle of static, then Di's voice replied, "John — you have arrived." She sounded pleased. "Kaldur is with the Atlanteans," she continued, "with Arthur Curry."

John had no clue who Arthur Curry was but didn't take the time to ask. Instead, he said, "I looked for your mother on my way, Di, but I didn't see her. I'm sorry."

"She is here." The relief was evident in Di's voice. "She is returned to us."

A little tension left his chest. That was one piece of good news. "Was she able to find Hydra's cache of bombs?" That would be even better news.

"No. And the situation on the battlefield has not improved."

Di's relief was gone, replaced by urgency, and John felt his own tension return in full force. "Di, I'm trying to find Odin. Where should I look—"

He didn't get the chance to finish his sentence. Something slapped him across the shoulders -— so hard he nearly fell forward onto the ground. He grabbed the handle of his axe and spun around, only to come face to face with...

"Thor?"

The Asgardian grinned, then pulled John into a hug. "I thought it was you, John. It is good to see you."

John returned the axe to his belt and flexed his shoulders to make sure they still worked. "And you, too. I'm happy that you made it out of Twelve — we were worried about you. How did you get here?"

"Oh, that…" Thor waved one hand. "I got on a transport with SHIELD and landed just in time to fight Hydra — although they are not putting up much of a fight." He patted his hammer, and his grin grew broader.

John sucked in his breath. "Hydra is putting up a bloody good fight, Thor — only not in Asgard. They've sent most of their forces to attack the Amazons. That's why I'm here. I'm trying to find your father to ask him to send warriors."

The grin faded from Thor's face. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly serious. And Hydra is being smart about it. They're taking advantage of the fact that Four isn't fighting as one people. Kaldur and I think their plan is to pick you apart -— starting with the Amazons."

"Where is Kaldur now?"

"He's with the Atlanteans."

Thor put the pieces together. "On the same mission as you, I'll warrant. To ask Arthur to unite his people with the Amazons on the battlefield." He let out a low whistle.

John held up his wrist and pointed to the comm unit. "Actually, Di is going to be doing the asking. I'm just carrying her voice."

"Diana?" Thor's eyes lit up. "Of course she is here."

"Yes." Di's voice said impatiently over the comms. "I'm with the Amazons, Thor. And John is correct about Hydra's strategy."

"Well, why did you it take you so long to say so?" Thor waved his hammer in the air. "Come, John, let us find my father."

* * *

 _God save me from proud people_.

As much as he admired the people of District Four, John couldn't help thinking it as he stood amid a small group of Asgardians. Thor was on his left, and Odin was on his right, and there were several other warriors whose names he could not remember — probably because Odin was glowering at him as if _he_ were the enemy. He'd explained that Hydra was using division as a strategy, and Di had spoken to all the peoples of Four in a way that had made John's chest swell with admiration and pride.

And no one had budged.

"The Amazons are strong," Hippolyta had said over the comms.

"Atlantis is the true defender of Four," Arthur Curry's voice had replied.

And Odin had stopped glaring at John long enough to say,"Asgardians fight valiantly."

It was as if they were holding a contest to see who could be the proudest.

John could feel his frustration growing, along with his worries for the Amazons. They had been fighting a long time against overwhelming forces, and he didn't think they could hold out much longer. And Di was with them. He had no doubt that she would perish fighting, too. He ran his hand through his hair and gave Thor an exasperated look. _These are your bloody people,_ he wanted to say _. Do something_.

And to John's surprise, Thor nodded as if he'd heard. He stared at his father for a moment and then turned back to John. "Turn off your comm link."

"What?" John wasn't sure he had heard Thor correctly.

"Turn your comms off, John," Thor repeated. "I have something to say to my father, and I do not wish the world to hear it. I believe _he_ would not wish the world to hear it either."

Odin narrowed his eyes at his son as John reached for his wrist and turned off the communication link. The group looked at Thor expectantly.

"Asgard and the Amazons have shared District Four for decades," Thor began. "And while we have lived — for the most part — in peace, we have lived as separate peoples."

"My son gives us a history lesson," Odin said dryly.

"But I recently learned that the Amazons and Asgardians share more than the land in District Four," Thor continued, as if Odin had not spoken. "They share a daughter." He looked his father in the eye. "Odinsdottir."

Odin looked surprised. "Diana told you?"

"That we are kin," Thor finished. "Yes. Do not deny it, Father."

"I have no intention of denying it."

The warriors' glances moved uneasily between Thor and Odin. _How long has Diana known_? John wondered. _And how does she feel about this?_

Odin shrugged. "It changes nothing," he said to Thor. "Diana may be my daughter, but you are my son — and my heir. Asgard will follow you when I am gone."

Thor shook his head. "It changes everything, Father — can you not see it? I am a warrior — that is my strength. I was made to fight, not to govern, not to lead. Diana excels at these things. She will be a far better leader to our people than I could ever be. And she is of your blood." He turned to the Asgardian warriors. "You should follow her — fight for her. I intend to."

Odin stared coldly at his son. "You are young, Thor. You do not realize the import of such a decision."

"I understand it perfectly, Father. And I am prepared to make it." And before Odin could reply, Thor turned to John. "Bring the comms back on now. Let us hear what our leader has to say."

* * *

It would have made a wonderful, poetic story, John thought hours later, if the peoples of Four uniting in battle led to a quick and decisive victory over Hydra. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Diana's words, wise and eloquent, did indeed succeed in bringing Four together to fight as one people. However, once Hydra realized that their divide and conquer strategy was no longer working, they flew in more soldiers until their numbers equaled the combined forces of the Amazons, Asgardians, Atlanteans and SHIELD. And they battled fiercely.

The only consolation for John was that as the separate skirmishes merged into one large contest, he was able to fight near Di. He could watch her back, and she could watch his, just as they had always done — and her presence gave him strength. His axe felt light and quick in his hands, and he lost count of the number of Hydra soldiers he felled. Still, he remained fearful about the outcome. Four was exhausted; they had been fighting for more than a day, and he knew that even the strongest warrior could not fight forever.

John was engaged in combat near Thor and Diana when he heard the communication link on his wrist crackle. He had almost forgotten he was wearing the thing, and he stopped to listen, fearful that Kaldur was in trouble.

Instead, Logan's voice came on. "Diana, do you copy?"

 _Logan_. John sent up a silent prayer that the director was about to tell them he was bringing a hundred agents. He watched Di dispatch a green-clad soldier and then raise her wrist to her mouth. Over the comms, he heard her say, "Logan — where are you?"

"Almost there. And I'm bringing reinforcements."

"Thank the gods. What is their number?" Di's voice was steady, but John could hear worry in it.

"Oh, a couple dozen, at least. I've got a special forces unit and a battalion of stylists."

 _Battalion of stylists?_ John had been hoping for at least fifty agents armed with the latest ICERs. He lifted his comm link, but before he could say a word, Logan continued, "The stylists are armed and angry. Hydra won't know what hit 'em."

John recollected his experience with stylists during the Games. Noh-Varr, one of the stylists for Twelve, had been determined man, but he hadn't exactly struck John as a warrior. _But then_ , John thought, _you weren't a warrior then either_ — _and look at you now. Things change._

And, in the end, it was the stylists who made the difference. Logan had not been joking when he'd said they were armed and angry. They turned out to be fierce fighters — and one stylist, a woman named Jubilee, managed to find Hydra's cache of bombs and use them _against_ Hydra. It was the turning point in the battle.

The victory against Hydra was bittersweet. Lives had been lost. Most gravely, Odin's life. John had been near him in the field when the Asgardian had died defending Hippolyta. It was a shock to all of Four and added a dark, sober note to the victory celebrations. John wondered what the All-Father's death would mean for the district and, more importantly, for Di. The notion that she would someday be Odin's heir had become a reality far earlier than she could ever have expected. He wanted to talk to her about it but knew it was too early. She needed time and freedom to think. They could talk later.

At some point, he quietly excused himself from the victory celebrations and walked slowly away from the crowd. It felt right to give Kaldur and Di time alone with their people — without the burden of continually introducing him or explaining Four to him, even though he knew they didn't mind. He thought he would get closer to the ocean. It looked beautiful; huge and blue, dotted here and there with boats.

He was not alone for long. As he left the celebrations, a young woman approached him and fell in stride beside him. She was tall, with dark hair and dark brown eyes, and she moved with the ease of an athlete. She had obviously been part of the battle. She was wearing armor, and one leg was smeared with blood, although it didn't seem to bother her.

She tapped him on the arm. "You are John Constantine, yes?"

He nodded, surprised.

"My name is Sif, and I am a friend of Thor's" she continued, a smile spreading over her face. "He has told me much about you — your training and your progress. I think he is quite pleased with himself for helping you become a warrior."

John chuckled. "Sounds like Thor." Then, in case she thought he was being disrespectful, he added, "He is a good trainer."

"And today, you exercised the skills he taught you to the fullest. I saw you fight. You fought as if Four was your home." Her smile faded a little. "You didn't want to stay for the celebrations?"

He pointed toward the beach. "I wanted to see the ocean. I grew up in Twelve and have never seen it before."

Sif's eyes widened. "Really? Then we must go." She tucked her hand in his elbow and added, "But first, let me show you Asgard. Wouldn't you wish to see Thor's home?"

And without waiting for a reply, she steered him toward the village and began pointing out aspects of it. John listened and tried to retain what she said, although only about half of it stuck. He was tired and relieved that the battle was over, and the Asgardian words were foreign to his ears. He stumbled a few times trying to say _Yggdrasil,_ causing Sif to smile.

Eventually, they ended up on the beach, and John gazed in wonder at the ocean, amazed at the sheer size of it. It smelled good; clean and salty, the complete opposite of the brackish water in the arena's swamp. He recalled Kaldur's wish to be returned to it upon his death and thought he understood that wish a little better now. The ocean had a life of its own, independent of man. It rolled and foamed and spoke in hisses and roars. It was powerful and soothing at the same time.

He wondered how cold it was.

"Well, go ahead," Sif said, as if she could read his mind. "Go stand in it."

He watched a wave recede, pulling sand and small shells along with it. He had a vision of himself being pulled out as well and didn't move.

"Go on," she encouraged him. "Salt water is healing, you know. It will help with your cuts."

With a shrug, John kicked his feet out of his boots and waded tentatively into the water until it was up to his knees. It was cold, but not unbearably so. He moved a few steps further until the water reached mid-thigh and the waves gently pushed and pulled at his body. He tried to imagine what it would be like to be submerged in this water far from shore like a diver — like Kaldur — and shivered.

"It's so strong," he said to Sif, "I can't believe people swim in this… dive in this."

She waded next to him, and they both watched the waves rinse the blood off her leg. "The _Atlanteans_ swim in this," she corrected dryly. "The rest of us possess a little more sense."

 _Ah well_ , John thought. _Four won't be unified in a day._

He looked up to see a large wave bearing down on them. Before he could retreat to shore, it struck his chest, rolling up to splash his face and causing him to stagger. He had the sensation of being swept out to sea, but Sif quickly caught his hand and squeezed.

"Don't worry," she said. "I will be your anchor. You are not leaving us."

John thought about Di, Kaldur, and Thor — what they had been through and what was yet to come.

 _No_ , he said to himself. _I'm not_.


	32. Chapter 32: Look What You Made Me Do

**(A/N): Oooh yes. This chapter... it has been a long time coming.**

 **Thank you as always to our writers who have been reviewing (and fueling our madness!) as well as to our rockstar reviewers, Slim Summers2002, Sinobi001, and TheRaspberryVigilante41. We really loved seeing Four from John's perspective too!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Two - Look What You Made Me Do**

 **Sinthea Schmidt, Formerly of District Six**

 **Hydra's Stronghold, District Six**

 **Written by Silmarilz1701**

* * *

" _Before you embark on a journey for revenge, dig two graves." - Confucius_

* * *

It wasn't that Sin disliked Helena. She certainly didn't like the woman either, but she had nothing against her — not yet, at least. She simply would've preferred to have Natasha at her side instead. Though if she were being honest with herself, walking through Six's industrial district alone suited her best.

When she and the others had arrived at the Red Skull's base in Six (not the one in the Capitol where he liked to sit on the throne but the one in his home district where he liked to crush his heel into his lapdog), Sin had told Helena she had an errand in the district and ditched her to keep watch on the base entrance while she went into the district proper. Sin had heard rumors of the focus of her errand. Apparently, he had taken up residence in the old Serpent Squad hideout.

The dusty, broken roads and sidewalks of Six's abandoned sector still crunched beneath her feet. The odor of urine and feces from squatters and wild animals floated through the air, welcoming her home. The last time she'd come this far into the abandoned factories of Six had been when she worked there.

Despite heading to Six on a few jobs for Hydra, she'd made it a point to remain distant. Now, there was no need. She found an odd comfort in feeling at home there. Even if home smelled and looked like literal shit.

Dodging another green-uniformed Hydra guard, Sin hid behind a stack of crates. She hated being out in broad daylight. Night always worked better. It had worked for the gangs, and it had worked for Hydra.

"Damn it, Rumlow," she muttered to herself, hurrying to the next hiding spot. According to a map she'd gotten and some intel from Logan's men, the perimeter that the Red Skull's men worked in ended not too far from her current position. That was where the gang territory started.

Sin's lips curled up in a small smile despite her frustration. She felt mildly proud of Brock Rumlow for finally joining the gangs. If the stories echoing the broken streets of her home district about the infamously violent man with a jolly roger mask spoke of her old friend, she couldn't wait to see the new Brock.

Soon enough, the Hydra soldiers' presence thinned, then disappeared altogether. Spray paint littered the dilapidated concrete walls on the very edges of the city center, where the oldest, unused factories had been left to rot. She spotted a few new symbols, including a red skull. But she saw another one: a jolly roger with a serpent coiled around its bleached skull

She readied her pistol. With the increase in gun activity in the district thanks to the Red Skull's order to arm the gangs he controlled, she wanted to be prepared for anything. Sin found herself walking forward without even thinking, remembering the path to the old hideout on instinct rather than landmarks and maps. It had changed some, but not by much. A few downed metal beams here, a blasted open wall there. Six hadn't put up much of a fight against the Red Skull.

She vaulted herself up into a loft of an abandoned factory building as quietly as she could. Back entrances were only secret to non gang members, but she wanted to meet the gang themselves. She didn't think they would take too kindly to her showing up.

A large splinter of wood tried to break through her red gloves. She grunted in annoyance once she snuck into the shadowy corners of the loft. It smelled of mold and gasoline. Light streamed down through broken rafters twenty feet above her, and she carefully avoided broken wooden beams as best she could underfoot.

Crack.

She misstepped just at the edge on her way down. Sin scrambled forward and swung herself over the beam that led to the stairs down, surprising a group of sleeping individuals below them. Sin, hesitating at the bottom of the stairs, dropped into a defensive stance.

"I'm not here for trouble," she began quickly, but as they scrambled to find weapons, she frowned. "I mean, I can make trouble. That's actually _no_ trouble, at least not for me."

She swept her black coat off, letting her red corset with black, bullet-resistant sleeves show instead like a warning. When the first man ran at her, a small but overly burly white guy with red and green tattoos on his face, she used her momentum to wrestle his knife from his hands. With a roundhouse kick to the side of his head, she dropped him to the ground, his ears ringing.

The second of the three was a Latina woman, tall and lean. She wore nasty spiked heels, which slammed into Sin's ankle, causing her to shout in pain. Sinthea growled in anger, returning a few blows. Fortunately the woman hadn't come at her armed. But they were joined by a third: a tall Black man with a curved blade. Sinthea had to play defense. Finally, she saw her chance; she leapt up and grabbed a hanging rope. She used it to swing into them, toppling them like dominos.

She didn't want to kill them. If this was Brock's new gang, she needed them alive, for his sake.

A shotgun blast split the air, startling Sin into finding cover. She spotted a fresh hole in the floor above her and a smoking wad on the ground near where she had been standing. Footsteps echoed from the floor above her. The _schkli-klikt_ of the shotgun racking a new round into place. She scurried away again.

Another blast. Another smoking wad with the slug lodged into the freshly cracked concrete floor.

"Hey! I'm here in peace, you idiots! Stop or you'll kill your own men!" Sinthea shrieked as she ran for the stairs after scrambling to draw her pistol.

The footsteps stopped, but she didn't. Sin bounded up the stairs, pistol at the ready. A bit of her scarlet hair had become plastered to her face with a cut the Latina woman had gifted her, and it obstructed her vision. "Jackasses! All of you!" As she shook her hair away, she froze.

She knew those brown eyes, even behind a jolly roger mask. Maybe... maybe even because of the mask. But she didn't lower the gun, and neither did he. She looked him up and down. He had put on a lot of muscle. He stood at least a foot taller than her, his tan skin ripped beneath a black kevlar vest and military-grade pants. In his bare hands, the shotgun that had been trying to murder her moments before. "Could've killed me or _them_. Idiot."

"Yeah, well, you should've knocked." His voice cracked just slightly. But he lowered his shotgun. "Or called. Or sent a smoke signal. A friggin' carrier pigeon would have been better than nothin'. Or a flag."

"What, a flag with a skull on it? Like mine in red, yours in black and white?" She lowered her pistol. "That's stupid."

"How the hell are you even, like…" He trailed off, moving towards her, reaching up and tearing his painted cloth mask off. "Sin, I watched as you died. I saw you dead."

She closed her eyes briefly. Flashes of memories, of blood and water, of drowning, the screeching of metal, filled her mind. But they passed quickly, and she shook her head. _Long story._ "Everyone tells me I wouldn't understand it. In this case, I decided to let that slide, seeing as I get to keep taking out targets for a living outside of Hydra."

Crossbones frowned. "You work for SHIELD, then?"

Sin froze, watching his expression carefully. "Sort of. Why?"

"I figured you would've worked for your dad. And maybe that was why you were back here." He circled around to the right side of the loft, near a window. An old chest sat below it. He opened it up and pulled out a bottle of rum. "He runs Six now."

Sin didn't even hesitate. "Does he run you?"

"Yes."

"Should've known. He would never let the gangs work alone."

Brock shook his head. "It's not like that. He runs us with funding. I'm pretty sure he funds all the gangs. Keeps the people terrified that we'll strike at them, take the food that we want, that sort of thing. And they're right. When we get hungry, we do."

"But?"

"But we don't work with your dad."

"Don't call him that," she spat out angrily. "He's no father of mine."

Brock recoiled for a moment. Shaking his head, he passed her the alcohol, which she gladly took. "Right. Fine. The Red Skull. We don't work with the Red Skull in any _official_ capacity."

"Good." Sin nodded. "Because I intend to kill him."

"Oh yeah? When?"

She nodded to the way she'd come into the hideout. "In about two hours. I want your help. It'll be us and one other."

Brock chuckled at her, taking back the alcohol. "Talkin' like that, maybe you can't handle that stuff like you used to. Are you insane? Three against the Red Skull?"

"Actually, I would prefer it just be me against that bastard, but I'll need help getting there," Sinthea muttered back at him. "You and Helena will get me in, then I'll put a bullet in his heart, a dagger in his eye — and then we'll get out with Jason, Dick, and Kory."

"Now who's the idiot?" Brock countered fiercely, gesturing to the door. "You're actually insane, Sin. Clinically insane—"

"No, I've seen clinically insane. I've worked with clinically insane. I'm not."

"Sin!"

She glared, walking up until she stood right in front of him, staring straight up into him as best she could. "Then I will do this by myself. You know that I would walk alone straight into the gates of hell itself if it meant I got to be the one to drag the Red Skull down with me. But I would prefer to do it with you."

Brock didn't respond for a long moment. Instead, he simply looked at her, the sassy little redhead a foot shorter than him. When they heard footsteps marching up the stairs, he shouted back but didn't break eye contact. "Willis! Everything's fine. Tell the other's I'll be gone on mission for a while. Hold down the fort."

Sin smirked. "I knew you'd see the light. After all, you're all brawn and no brains."

"I'm smart enough to like you."

She paused and felt herself blushing — and was entirely surprised to feel Brock's lips on hers. But she smiled into it. She had waited two years for that kiss, and she wasn't going to let a mission stop her from getting some happiness.

"Shit," she muttered when they broke apart.

Brock laughed. "What? I brushed my teeth today."

"No. I just don't want to turn into Kurt or any of Team Awesome with their romantic B.S." When she saw the look of confusion on his face, Sin couldn't help but laugh. "Still, I suppose that was a long time coming."

"You're damn right it was, _Lady Sin_." He finished the bottle of rum and tossed it into the chest. The impact had jostled the chest just enough for the lid to slam down of its own accord, like it always had. Brock pulled out his extra weapons and strapped them into their holsters. "So, where are we going?"

Sinthea smirked. "Into the belly of the beast."

* * *

Getting to the base that Helena, Kory, and Dick had infiltrated didn't take too long. The base had been set up with tunnels leading to and from many access points in the city, but it also had a perimeter in the outskirts. Brock showed Sin through the damaged parts of the city where the fighting had been heaviest — and where damage crews worked night and day to make the Red Skull's district shine as brightly as possible while still maintaining a certain level of terror. They hoped to sneak through the perimeter there instead of at the other point where Helena had gotten in; it was simply too far to risk making a run for that same entry point.

As they walked, Sinthea felt her blood boiling more and more. Brock had lent her an overcoat to hide her body armor, so she felt hot physically, but it really was the emotional heat that bothered her more. Maybe it was her streetwise, gang-girl upbringing, but she wanted nothing more than to take a knife and stab it into someone wearing Hydra colors. The Red Skull's colors.

When they reached the compound, it was in disarray. Shouting and screaming echoed the halls. Sinthea and Brock wasted no time diving into the assault either, unleashing round after round into Hydra operatives as they followed the steady stream of green uniforms deeper into the base. They didn't have to go far. She saw the old yet still bright red burnt flesh of her target rounding on a captive Dick and Kory when a shot rang out as someone she couldn't see flopped to the floor — she hoped it wasn't Helena — and, surprising herself, she wasted no time darting ahead, with Brock hot on her heels.

She turned to Brock when they stopped and pulled him into a kiss. When she released him, she was sure to push him away. "Take out as many Hydra idiots as you can. Get those prisoners some weapons, too. The Red Skull is _mine_."

Stepping over to a fallen soldier, Sinthea picked up a discarded assault rifle and aimed it at the ceiling. She released several three round bursts, smiling to herself as the spent brass rained down around her. "Over here, Dad."

The effect was instant. Her estranged bastard of a father, the loathsome Red Skull, rounded on her, still some thirty feet away. He sneered. " _You_."

"That's no way to greet your only daughter, now is it, dad?" She snarled. The room had fallen mostly silent, and she wondered where Brock was. But she continued, "Oh, I forgot. You don't like me. My bad. Guess what?"

"Do not play games with _me_ , child." Schmidt raised his gun and pointed it at her, causing her to roll to the side, but he snarled as it didn't fire. No more bullets. "Get me a new magazine," he barked to someone else.

Sinthea cackled, mocking him. "Let's play, Dad." She raised her own pistol and shot him in the leg before he could move. But after that, things got much harder, as she had only managed to graze him.

Brock finally let all hell break loose, picking off Hydra bodyguards with sloppy, wide shots, throwing half a dozen bullets at a time. With the distraction of the sudden massacre around them, Sinthea ran straight at her father. She tried to land several punches, but he blocked all but one. She noted that his right arm bled heavily, and she focused there. Anger fueled her. Rage fed a fire she didn't realize she'd had until she saw her father bleeding before her.

"You don't seem to be having fun," she huffed between trading blows, sure to aim for the source of the blood. "What, can't think of any quick retorts? Or don't you want to risk embarking in a battle of wits with a girl?"

Schmidt didn't answer, pushing her back to try to gain a bit of distance before he reached for his knife off the ground. But Sin saw what he was up to. She dodged left as he swung, then fell into a somersault. As she flipped back up, her father landed a knife blow to her left arm, and she shouted in pain, stumbling a few steps away from him before turning to face him, her hand automatically reaching for the fresh blood at her arm.

"Having fun?" he muttered between ragged breaths.

"Yes."

Sin's hand curled into a fist as she took the quick couple of steps his way. She feinted a hit just before twirling on one foot, only to kick him across his red, burnt face. She briefly caught sight of Kory and Dick fighting off to the side, and Helena had come in sometime recently by the looks of it. While Kory and Dick were fighting those closest to them, Helena seemed to be focused on a man that Sin _swore_ had been an old tribute from the most recent Games, but in the chaos, she couldn't tell who he was — familiar or not. Sin had been a bit busy during the Games, after all.

Her father tried for an old-fashioned right cross, and Sin spun low to the ground to dodge, tripping the Red Skull with a leg sweep in the process. Before he could gather his senses, Sin pulled a .357 magnum from her belt and aimed it at his head. The sound of Sin pulling back the hammer echoed around them. "Playtime's over."

It barely registered when Johan fired a gun he had found off into the distance. But it didn't hit Sinthea. Instead, she pulled her trigger almost in the same heartbeat. It went off with a bang, and she dropped the gun. A deeply red, nearly black hole the size of a dime formed between her father's eyes and then spilled onto the floor. She didn't bother to close his eyes.

Blood dripped over her eyes. She reached up and felt it, wincing ever so slightly. But still, she smiled, smearing the blood. She grinned down at her dead father and shook her head. "Now who's the Red Skull." She cackled. "Can't bite back now, bastard."

"Sin!"

She turned at Dick's voice, a smile on her face. Then, it dropped. As Hydra soldiers flooded into the compound, Dick held the body of a masked man with a jolly roger over his face. He helped the man sink to the ground, panicking as he put pressure to the wound. A bullet had lodged itself under Brock's armpit and into his chest. Sin scrambled across the floor on her knees, grabbing him from Dick.

"Get away from him," she screeched, losing her composure. Her hands were stained with blood as she tried to stop the bleeding of her best and only friend she'd ever had. "No. Crossbones."

She barely noticed that Dick, Kory, and Helena had surrounded her and the dying young man protectively, giving them as much time as they could. All she saw was too much blood pouring from Brock's side as she lifted up his mask, her vision of him cloudy through her tears. She put it next to his head. "Brock, you idiot, stay with me."

"I've gotta go, Lady Sin," he murmured with a cocky smirk as blood already had started to trickle from his nose. "Did you kill him?"

Tears streamed down her cheeks. She didn't answer him right away, but based on the shouts around them, they didn't have much time. Instead, she leaned down and kissed him. "Yeah, idiot. I did."

She looked up and saw Viper's personal guard approaching. They were out of bullets. They were out of knives. This was it. Sinthea leaned over and stifled a cry into him as he gasped for the last few hard-earned breaths. "You're not an idiot. I promise."

There was no response. She grabbed a gun, relying on hope that it still had bullets left to fuel her fury. She fired at Viper's minions. It had nothing. The last thing she saw before getting hit over the head with a rifle butt was Brock's empty, broken smile and blood-soaked jolly roger mask.


	33. Chapter 33: Reflections on the Sea

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We hope your week has been going well :) We know we've got several stories with cliffhangers, but we thought we'd take a second to look at District Four again with InDeepDarkWood's amazing Diana!**

 **Thank you as always to our writers who reviewed and helped us get hyped! Thanks also to our ROCK STAR reviewers, TheRaspberryVigilante41 and Slim Summers2002. (We love to quietly reference things, TRV!) You guys make this project more fun when we get to see your excitement!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Three- Reflections of the Sea**

 **District Four**

 **Diana Prince of District Four**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _All men dream, but not equally. Those who dream by night in the dusty recesses of their minds, wake in the day to find that it was vanity: but the dreamers of the day are dangerous men, for they may act on their dreams with open eyes, to make them possible." -_ T. E. Lawrence

* * *

Diana moved like she was in a dream — floating, airy, and almost in a trance. She would walk a pace, crouch, put a hand on a shoulder and assess whether the shoulder's owner would be capable of surviving, then move on to the next injured warrior. Each time, she made sure to look into their eyes, whether she was hunkered down beside them or standing tall. _Eyes tell all,_ she thought. Smiles and shrugs were the great pretenders of war. It was eyes that told the truth of how one was feeling, eyes that appreciated when she held contact, eyes that made connections across battlefields and between divers and queens.

She gave a half-smile to a sand-smeared warrior who smiled back with bared teeth, his eyes still glinting with the adrenaline of battle. She did not know what family he fought under, but it didn't matter. Under the sand and the blood, they were all kin of Four, exactly as she had hoped.

Uniting the families had been a battle in itself, one she was happy to undertake, if not happy to repeat.

* * *

 _Arthur Curry had always been an intimidating man for Diana to face. She had likened him to a scorned relative to Odin, jealous of the power given to the All-Father. As a child, Antiope had given animated tales of battles of wits and weapons against the Sea King, usually with her aunt or mother emerging victorious. Diana had been bolstered by this sense of confidence, so when, as a seven-year-old girl, she had met Arthur himself, her chest had puffed out, and she had strutted forward with a swagger granted to her by the knowledge that_ her _aunt had laid waste to the man. The victor the party was in honor for, Drax, was nowhere to be seen, but Diana had bigger fish on her mind._

" _Mr. Curry," Diana had said with all the coolness a seven-year-old could muster._

" _Little Prince, you are not in a position for such displays of grandiosity," Arthur had responded. "That is to be earned, not inherited."_

 _Diana had deflated like a puffer fish._

* * *

 _She felt that same feeling of defeat now, as she stood with Antiope and her mother, the comms system before them with a blinking light acting as a last beacon of hope. Kaldur and John had called them, and they had answered, battle weary from the assault of Hydra. Odin was likely leaning against the trunk of Yggdrasil, and Diana did not envy John for coming under the gaze of the All-Father. Diana had no doubt their muscles were taut and ready for battle between the families as well as with Hydra. Her reunion with Hippolyta had been brief, in the face of the onslaught that they'd met on arrival, and now, she had the other leaders to contend with as well._

" _How goes it?" Diana asked into the comms._

" _The Amazonians are strong," Hippolyta said immediately._

" _Atlantis is the true defender of Four," Arthur said loftily._

" _Asgardians fight valiantly," Odin put in. Heimdall stood a little straighter at the words._

" _If you were alone with your peoples and advisors, would your answers ring with more truth than they do now?" Diana asked. Silence greeted her on the comms, and Antiope had the decency to shrug her shoulders and shake her head. "Alone, we can only do so much." There were some murmurings between warriors, words muffled by the electronics. "Asgard is valiant, Odin, but that is not to say Atlantis is not. Hippolyta, your people are strong, but is the same not true of the Asgardians?"_

" _The enemy of my enemy is my friend," John said quietly behind her, and Diana nodded, rolling her shoulders in an effort to become even straighter._

" _The time has come for you all to decide if you truly have your people's_ — our people's — _interest in your heart. Two of you came together once and created something instead of destroying each other_ —" _Diana broke off, shooting a pointed look at Hippolyta. "Now, all three of you must unite. Yggdrasil connects us all. Before the sea, and before Yggdrasil, honor your people_ — _and pledge to Four."_

* * *

Diana made her way toward the docks, where Logan and the rest of SHIELD were regrouping, forcing her mind to focus, though it threatened to throw itself into disarray.

"Is it true?" a woman asked her as another was wrapping a bandage on her arm. "Is the All-Father dead?"

"Aye," Diana said, her stomach rolling. "'Tis true enough, though I would scarce believe it had I not seen it with my own eyes."

"The halls of Valhalla will celebrate tonight," the Asgardian said, sadness seeping into her tone.

Diana nodded as she moved on, her mind churning with the words. _If I die,_ she thought, following the familiar path to the docks, _will I go to the Elysian Fields, or will it be denied of me by my blood?_ It was a deeply troubling thought that made her all the more empathetic to Kaldur and his dissociation with his body — or to how John felt, dying in the Games.

"Is it true?" Diana glanced up as a man reached out to touch her arm as she passed. He was relatively unscathed, carrying supplies to help prepare the dead.

"The news of the All-Father?" she countered, ready to break the news to another Asgardian.

"That you carry his blood in your veins," he stated, no longer asking. "I heard words in the healing house." Diana was silent for a moment, unable to fathom how the news could have travelled to this unknown man. _Thor, likely. He enjoys a celebration even in the face of sadness._

"Aye, it is true," she said eventually, keeping the uncertainty from her voice. The man closed his right fist against his heart, balancing his basket of supplies as he dipped his head toward her, his red hair slightly familiar.

"I wish for a gentle tide to ease your heart, Odinsdottir," he said, straightening up and walking away as the name Hogun floated into her head, following the man away.

 _Odinsdottir._ The word settled on her as she reached the place where SHIELD and the Tahitians were regrouping.

* * *

" _For Asgard!" Heimdall called, his sword swinging as he dropped onto a Hydra soldier, making quick work of dispatching him. A woman followed him, of similar age to Diana, with as much determination, the emblem of the Valkyries stamped on her armor. "Come, Sif; let us dance the dance!"_

" _For_ freedom _!" Diana cried, her whip cracking with her words, flying forward to catch a leg. The Hydra agent sent a spray of bullets into the sky and away from where her allies were. Diana spared a moment to glance up to where the bullets were headed, searching for Logan and his earlier promises._ You assured me you were not full of empty virtues, _Diana thought, her own sword slicing through the Hydra man's chest, well sharpened and clean. She didn't wait for the blood to bubble in the man's mouth, to hear his last gasps._ Freedom is not a clean reward.

 _Her people were losing._

 _The warriors had been fighting for days upon days, without much respite and sleep. Even the bravest warrior could not be expected to stay steady on their feet after that._

" _Keep faith, Prince," Kaldur said, breaking into her thoughts as he leaped over her fallen opponent to impale a soldier behind her. "Your soul is the sea, and the sea is not defeated." He danced away, his new body as graceful as ever thanks to the brutal boot camp it had undergone since his resurrection. He moved in tempo with a man she didn't recognize but who was obviously familiar to Kaldur._

Keep faith, _Diana thought to herself, throwing herself into the melee. "Keep faith!" she called aloud, to all who would listen. "We are Four!" she roared, her sword spinning, cutting true even though her old shoulder injury ached, and her opponents seemed to_ know _the exact spot Jonathan Crane had stabbed her, using it to their advantage._

" _We will not break!" She backed up into someone and flipped around, expecting a foe. Instead, the woman bore the mark of the Atlanteans. They resumed their original position, their backs guarded for a time, Diana's breathing heavy with exertion._

" _We will not be stopped!" A low roar was building in the sky as Diana and her partner broke apart and moved deeper into the thick._

" _We are the tide, and we cannot be defeated!" The Asgardian warriors beside her bellowed at her words, renewed vigor in their actions._

 _As she surged forward with the warriors, Diana looked up to find the source of the roar above them. The helicarriers had the distinct emblem of SHIELD, and she let out an involuntary whoop, her whip cracking, her steps purposeful as she found herself back with her true partner, John._

" _For Four!" Odin's booming voice rolled across the roar of the battlefield, and all close by heard it and took up the cry. Adrenaline pumping, knowing that Logan had kept his promise, Diana moved her whip with deadly accuracy. She caught a woman by the neck and cranked hard so she stumbled into her comrades. As Diana moved to finish them, she heard a scuffle behind her and glanced back to see John standing behind the Hydra soldier between them. The soldier crumpled, a victim of the axe that he held._

" _Bloody hell, Di, watch your backside," he said, sharing her smirk. She turned back to her quarry and, hearing her mother's name distantly, put it to a triumphant cry of her people._

"Hippolyta!" _This time, the call was a bellow, and the deep, rolling voice was unmistakable._

 _Diana looked up, tracking the sound with her gaze. Odin was running, his helmet gone, his hair as wild as the look in his face. She had seen that look before, a long, long time before, when the fish had gone, and Thor's mother had been slain, and the Capitol had tried to squash the All-Father's influence. She had not understood the expression then, but she understood it now. She had_ felt _that expression._

 _His shield was struck by metal as he fell on Hippolyta, his shield raised to protect them both. The bullet ricocheted off the disc, flying sideways and striking a green-clad soldier in an act of friendly fire. The gunman was white-haired, though younger than the color would lead Diana to believe. He twisted his hand down, firing again, only to hit the ground next to Odin's feet._

 _Odin pushed himself off the ground, his shield still up to block. Hippolyta lay with her head slightly raised, her eyes closed, blood on her forehead._

" _Mother!" Diana called out, freeing her lasso from the Hydra woman's neck, and she tried to make her way closer. Odin was a step from the white-haired man, too close to avoid the bullet meant for Hippolyta. But instead, the round hit Odin's thigh and protected Diana's mother. Odin brought his sword up and launched himself with his good leg, though his shield dropped and exposed his chest. Diana had seen this happen before. She knew what the outcome would be, and what's more, she knew Odin was too great a warrior not to realize how open he was as he launched his attack._

" _Odin!" Diana cried out as his sword came down and connected with bone and sinew at his opponent's shoulder. She saw the recoil from the man's gun and watched Odin stumble backward to where Hippolyta lay. As the All-Father fell, the damage his sword had hewn was apparent when the Hydra soldier crumpled in unequal halves. "Odin!" Diana shouted again, as Odin crumpled and Heimdall, too late in his rescue attempt, fell to his knees beside the All-Father._

" _Di!" John called from behind her. She cast a look back at him._

" _I have to go! He cannot wait!"_

 _John shook his head, his axe swinging to catch a woman as she raised her gun to his head, leaving her whole body exposed. He shuddered slightly at his deed. Then, turning toward Diana, he closed the gap and grasped her sword hand, both sweaty and bloodstained, clinging tightly in the smoke and the battle noise._

" _I think he can wait forever."_

* * *

Kaldur was the first to spot Diana, and he practically parted the sea of people at the dock to reach her. "Diana!" He paused when he reached her, his gaze piercing as it met hers. "You are alive, then," he noted, in a much more controlled tone.

"Aye," she agreed. "It appears that way."

"Blackmailing our kings' and queen's senses of honor and duty was a low move for a Prince," he said.

"It was no blackmail, Kaldur. I merely helped them see the true path." She smiled at him, reaching up to pat the side of his face. "It is good that you also still live, diver. We have a task to accomplish before we can meet with Logan and the Sea King."

Kaldur nodded at that. "Now, we will see if Logan's outward sense of honor, that which he displayed in the Capitol, is as apparent on this field of battle."

"Yes, well, some things are more important than battle strategies and leading districts," she replied as she grasped his forearm and then strode away, giving him no choice but to follow. Of course, Diana was well aware Kaldur could dig in his heels and leave her pulling air, so she was pleased when the small resistance she felt at the beginning lifted, and Kaldur's footsteps clunked on the wood behind her.

The wooden dock gave way to the sand, the small area of beach that signalled the end of the cove. Beyond the rocks, to the east, lay riptides, coves, shipwrecks and treasures. Diana did not have the time to go that far. Other voices were audible where they stood, drowning out the waves a little, but the sound was still there to the trained ear.

"I know the taste of the salt and sea," Diana said. "It is difficult to catch it on the main beach, above the burning flesh and wood."

Kaldur took a deep breath beside her. She felt the movement in his forearm as his whole upper body moved.

"Your soul is free to feel it again," Diana continued. Kaldur made no move to go to the beach and touch the waves, standing by her and taking another breath. "When you are ready, Atlantis will welcome you home. It will always welcome you." They stood there for a few more moments, breathing quietly, feeling the wind.

"Let us return to Logan," Kaldur said eventually, turning back down the dock. She dropped his arm after a few strides, comfortable in keeping pace with him. Diana didn't try and push him, knowing the deeply personal connection he had with the sea, knowing he would want privacy. _Atlantis is calling, Kaldur,_ she thought, _though_ I _will always welcome you home._

"Where is John?" Diana asked as they walked to where Logan was based.

"He has become acquainted with the Lady Sif from Odin's Valkyries," Kaldur said. "I believe she is showing him proof of our Games' stories, lest he believe we were speaking fairy tales."

"She will likely show him Yggdrasil," Diana noted, feeling a little twinge of protectiveness toward John. "If she thinks he will face ridicule by climbing the tree, she is sorely mistaken."

"Asgardians are such tricksters," Kaldur said in mock seriousness. "I am sure that it is such a humiliation to be bound to such a people." Diana rolled her eyes at his words, pushing him lightly on the shoulder. "Our John has more honor and strength than most; he will be capable of climbing Yggdrasil. Enough to brave the east bay, however? That is a different matter entirely."

"Honor or foolhardiness?" Diana countered, laughing a little as they reached Logan and the rest of his circle. It felt nice to laugh — and a little bit guilty to find a sliver of happiness in the ruins of Four.

"There you are," Logan said with a little smirk as they came to a stop. "Glad you made it out alright."

"It is good to see you, Logan," Diana responded, thumping her chest and bringing her arm out in salute. Antiope, standing beside Arthur Curry, raised her eyebrows in surprise at the gesture of respect. "I am glad that you turned the flame of hope into a fire."

"I'm glad you helped to get everyone on the same page," Logan replied.

"Our peoples do not bend easily to outside forces," Diana replied carefully, meeting Arthur's gaze as he crossed his arms. "We are all capable of seeing the greater good — and the unity to create a better life for Four."

"Despite the main docks being annihilated after we abandoned them to aid the Amazons," Arthur put in, his voice rumbling in a different but no less powerful way than Odin's once had.

"Docks can be rebuilt, Arthur," Diana stated calmly, feeling the weight of Kaldur's arm as he leaned lightly onto her shoulder blade. It anchored her in the moment. "Without people to rebuild them, what is the point in trying to save them?"

"The Amazons are grateful for the assistance of Atlantis," Antiope announced. "Hippolyta is recovering, and I stand in her place."

"And Atlantis must be grateful for the assistance of the Amazons," Kaldur said, surprising Diana with the look he gave his king, one that spoke to a dynamic of power different to any one that she had seen before — until Arthur inclined his head slightly, giving Kaldur silent permission to continue to speak. "We were all of us divided, and the loss of life would have been far greater if not for the aid on all sides."

"The world is changing, Arthur, and we must change with it, lest we be eroded by time," Diana continued. In the corner, where a group of Tahitians that had come to help fight were standing, one of the young girls nodded enthusiastically with her words, bolstering her confidence. "Odin led Four with honor, this is true, but he was not without flaws."

 _Flaws that I could not see past, to my detriment,_ she thought with a touch of sadness. Thor's words of their father had been similar to her feelings toward Hippolyta, and she had never given Odin the chance to prove that, blinded by her narrow-mindedness for his lineage. _Our lineage._

"He tried to push down the powers of Amazon and Atlantis," she continued. "That cannot continue. We all depend on each other to survive; today is proof of that. _Stronger together._ We can rebuild the docks, and we can rebuild a better Four, but only if this alliance extends beyond the battlefield."

Arthur was silent, and Logan shook his head.

"I'm sure you can figure that out among yourselves. Right now, Four is free, but I need to know what _you_ need for your next move." He tipped his head, and the Tahitian who had agreed with Diana came forward. "Ororo's been in contact with Eleven ever since they pushed Hydra back, and I ain't gonna sugarcoat it; they're not makin' it easy."

"Eleven isn't like here," Ororo informed the group. "We don't have so many warriors. We have people that just want to live. They've taken some heavy losses."

"The Dora Milaje are holdin' em off, and Eleven can have as many troops as we can spare," Logan finished. "I know Four has their own civil war threatening to boil over, but you got bigger fish to fry."

Beside her, Kaldur let out a low chuckle, despite the tension in the area. "That was a terrible idiom to use here."

"Grayson must be rubbin' off on me," Logan said with a smirk Kaldur's way.

"Logan, Four is important to us," Diana said, trying to keep the smile for Kaldur's words off her face. "This is our home, and these are _our_ people. They are lost and have lost members of their family that were breadwinners and skilled craftspeople. We need to work to build our strengths up once more."

"I know. Your district is your home. But the dead stay dead now, Diana, and you spendin' time with 'em isn't gonna help the living or save those people in Eleven that I _promise_ you are every bit as honorable as those from Four," Logan said. "'Ro's underplayin' it. Eleven has their own version of warriors, but they need backup. Now, I'll give you everything I can on up-to-date information, and when the push for Eleven happens, anyone that goes will have our full backing: weapons, tools, transportation. I'm not gonna let anyone that's fighting Hydra or the Capitol get stuck without a way to fight and rebuild."

"Just because _I_ will be spending time with them does not mean we will turn our backs on our closest neighbors." Diana rested a hand on her hip, her grimy fingers on the still-gold lasso. "Do you really think we lack so much honor that we would refuse to help those less fortunate?"

"Of course not," Logan replied. "But I'm still gonna _ask_ and not assume. Four makes its own decisions, and I'm not assumin' that you're gonna follow SHIELD."

She tilted her head to Arthur, putting her words both to him and Logan. "Four can send a party from each of our families to help teach Eleven to harness the energy and warrior nature that lies within them. What say you, Arthur?"

The Sea King scratched his chin, pondering the words she had spoken. Diana's heart was hammering. _Earned, not inherited._ The weight of her mother and father's leadership was heavy on her shoulder. Arthur met her gaze, and she held it steadily, showing the truth in her eyes.

"Atlantis will help, Diana Odinsdottir."

Ororo beamed at the tall man, nodding in approval at his words. "Perfect. I'll let everyone know help is coming."

"But they will not be leaving until the morrow or the following day," Arthur added. "The battle is won, and the dead must be honored tonight." Logan looked between the two of them, and Diana thought for a moment that he may try and persuade them otherwise. "What say you, Diana?" Arthur asked, not giving the director a moment.

"Aye, a feast for Valhalla, for the Drowned Halls, and for the Elysian Fields."


	34. Chapter 34: All the Little Ones

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're checking in with Jade and her little posse this time (we promise we'll address other cliffhangers soon-ish :P)**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who continue to be the best support we have *mwuah* Thanks also to TheRaspberryVigilante41 and to SlimSummers 2002. You guys are seriously AMAZING and we grin SO HARD every time we see your reviews come in!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Four- All the Little Ones**

 **Jade Nguyen, formerly of District Ten**

 **In the Skies of Marvel**

 **Written by tvfan69**

* * *

 _"Just take my hand, and hold it tight. I will protect you from all around you. I will be here, don't you cry." – Phil Collins, "You'll be in my heart."_

* * *

They drove far away from the compound, into the dark of the night, and all under a blanket of silence. The injured SHIELD agent was propped up along the end of the bench, against the woman agent who was inspecting all of his injuries with a careful eye. Storm, one of the Four, was silent as well, too focused on navigating to pay attention to any of them, though he and the other victor from his district sometimes spoke in voices too low to be heard. Still, it was obvious Grimm was concerned for Storm, even if Storm was trying to shrug it off.

Jade had ended up sitting in the middle of Artemis and Thea, who were both staring vacantly at different dings in the metal of the bench and likely trying not to think too hard about what just happened.

Jade didn't want to think about it, either, but she wasn't having much luck in pushing it away.

The moment kept replaying, over and over, on an endless loop in her head. She didn't know if she wanted to cheer or throw up, to celebrate or to mourn. Lawrence was a monster, there was no doubt about that, but the image of blood and brains oozing out of his skull at her own hands was starting to churn her stomach. She needed to stop dwelling on it.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked, interrupting the silence of the van.

All eyes, except for those of the victors and the unconscious SHIELD agent.

"Somewhere safe," the woman answered.

"That's specific," Thea said, shaking her head. It was the first time she'd spoken, and to her credit, her voice wasn't as gravely and weak as Jade expected it to be, considering everything that had happened. "Come on. We don't know you; we don't know what's going on. Give us something."

"Agent Shayera Hol," the woman said. "This is Johnny Storm." She gestured toward the pilot, who raised a hand. "And Ben Grimm." The copilot let out a grunt. Shayera then nodded to the unconscious man slumped by her side. "This is John Stewart."

"I'm Jade. This is Artemis and Thea."

Shayera nodded. "We saw the two of you in the Games. You did alright."

"Thank you," Jade acknowledged dutifully, while Thea mumbled the same response.

Suddenly, the realization hit her like a runaway truck: if these agents were from SHIELD, and if they really were taking the three girls to safety, Jade could finally ask most of the questions that were still gnawing at her.

"Who won?"

It seemed as good a place to start as any, but she started to second-guess it when Shayera looked at her for a moment, her mouth pressed into a firm line, before she finally replied, "No one."

Jade felt her jaw drop a bit, and somewhere in the corner of her gaze, she noticed Thea's head pick up. No one had won. All the training, the betrayals, the suffering, and all of the death; it had all been for nothing.

"It came down to four." Shayera continued to explain, "Diana Prince, Kory Anders, Pamela Isley, and Helena Wayne. John Constantine was the last tribute to die. Shortly after he was dead and the Games were down to four, the final four were plucked from the arena, and Fury declared the revolution. The Capitol fell, and the Games were over as soon as that happened."

Just barely, Jade heard Thea's breath hitch with the mention of John Constantine, and she wondered what that was about, because she hadn't known them to be close. Though she supposed what she had and hadn't known during the Games didn't matter much now.

 _None_ of what happened in the Games mattered much now.

Maybe, just maybe, given the fact that she and Thea were alive to hear this, not even the deaths.

She dropped her hand to Thea's, hesitantly curling her fingers around those of the younger girl and squeezing when her grip was welcomed. "Where are they now?" she asked, though if she were asking about the four survivors or the other eighteen who died in that hell pit, she couldn't be sure.

Shayera didn't seem sure about which answer to give, either. "The four who survived?" she asked, though she didn't wait for an answer. "They were taken to District Twelve, to SHIELD's base there. Since that time, they've been working with SHIELD to fight against both the last remnants of the Capitol and the menace of Hydra."

"Definitely worth fighting," Thea grumbled.

Shayera nodded. "You should know: the technology used to bring you back was stolen from SHIELD. Not every tribute was brought back."

This time, when Jade squeezed Thea's hand, it had nothing to do with reassurance but rather with providing an anchor. Not for Thea but for herself. To keep herself from shouting or outright strangling someone. She was far from stupid, and it was obvious Shayera suspected as much. She could pick up on the implications of that statement.

This new chance of life she and Thea had been given should have meant that they were two of the lucky ones, that of all the victims of the arena, they were chosen for a second chance. But that was just it. They weren't. SHIELD didn't give a rat's ass about the two of them. If it weren't for Hydra, they would still be in the ground.

Ironic.

"I'm not entirely sure who was brought back," Shayera spoke up again. "They're all pretty spread out, and after the technology was stolen… who knows what Hydra was doing with it."

There was a question hidden in that, and it made Jade snarl. Even if she knew, what reason did she have to tell Shayera? In fact, she was starting to suspect this transport wasn't as much of a haven as she'd been led to believe. No, she didn't suspect SHIELD would kill them. They might have been old enough to be sacrificed to the Games, but they were still just kids. And they were useful. They'd been trained to kill, to fight. And they were here now, so there'd be no point in wasting them.

But still… it stung to know they weren't supposed to be saved.

"We were the only ones in the compound," Jade finally brought herself to reveal. She was back to playing a game, SHIELD's game this time, and while she might not yet know who was pulling the strings, she could assume they'd be easier than Luthor to outsmart if need be. They were only bringing back the best, after all.

Shayera nodded. "We've been out of the loop of the rest of SHIELD pretty much since the revolution started, so I don't know how much I can tell you if you're wondering about the others. I don't even know who all survived. I know Hydra took a few of SHIELD's resurrected tributes, and I know they're running their own resurrections—" She gestured at Jade. "—but it's a war, and with the ex-tributes and victors running missions every day, I know I don't have the latest intel to give you."

"What _can_ you tell us?" Artemis asked.

"I can tell you we're headed to Seven, and a lot of our operatives will be there. When we radioed ahead, that's where they diverted us. They're setting aside a spot just for the ex-tributes and victors, since you kids are targets." She held up a hand. "But it's safe. It's secure."

Jade nodded at the words as her mind occupied itself with deconstructing their true meaning. It was a lot to process, but more good news than bad. They were going somewhere safe. SHIELD may not have intended for them to be brought back, but they weren't going to be cast aside now that they were here.

She thought about the possibility of running, but there would be no point. All of Marvel was a warzone by now. They would be fighting no matter where they went, and if they were going to fight, Jade would rather it be in battles that could actually make a difference. Staying with SHIELD, regardless of the bitter echo the idea left in her mind, would be their best bet.

"Who was brought back?" Thea asked. "That you know of?"

"That's classified."

"We're _living_ it," Thea pointed out.

Shayera watched the girls for a long time before she slowly nodded. "I know of a few," she said at last. "I don't know where they are now, but I can tell you about your allies. I know Caitlin and Harper both were on the list for our engineering and tech teams…" She kept talking, but Jade had to force herself to listen.

She registered the next few names Shayera said: Dick Grayson, Raven, and Constantine. But her mind was still reeling from the first names. Harper and Caitlin. The two she had made a sort of survival pact with, the two she could maybe go so far as to call her friends. They were alive. They were safe with SHIELD. They—

"Oh, and Garfield Logan."

Jade swore her heart stopped.

Garfield was… they had brought him back.

For a second, she thought that this might be a dream, that she would wake up screaming in her bed in the compound at any moment now. The universe didn't cut Jade a lot of breaks, if any. Dying only to wake up in Hydra's clutches and under the supervision of Lawrence was proof of that. But this… this almost made up for all of it. Lawrence was dead, she and Artemis were together and safe, and now, of the tributes selected for resurrection, all three of the ones she would go so far to call friends had been among them.

This was easily the greatest night of her life.

"Mind you, I don't know much about the process of the resurrections; it isn't normally my field," Shayera continued apologetically. "But I know that sometimes when the tributes wake up, they can be… disoriented."

Jade nodded; she remembered what Luthor had told her about that.

"And I can't guarantee that anyone on the list is still alive or sane. The technology was still highly experimental and dangerous. The ones they picked — and I don't even know if they were all done before Hydra double-crossed us — they were chosen for many different reasons. But I can promise you: if SHIELD had the time and resources to give, every single one of the innocent kids that died in the Games would have come back."

Jade nodded, slow and accepting. It wasn't the best apology, but considering all that could've gone wrong with the process and the fact that what's done was done, she would accept it for now.

* * *

The rest of the ride went by in a more comfortable silence; Jade even dozed off for a while. She was awake before they stopped, though, and she used the opportunity to take stock once again.

Shayera and Johnny Storm had switched places — she vaguely remembered her slumber being disturbed during that — and John Stewart was now awake and looking at her, Artemis, and Thea like he was trying to decide what to do with them. She felt her posture go rigid under his analyzing gaze, so she forced herself to relax and instead check over the other girls.

They were both asleep. Thea was still sitting upright, with the exception of her head lolled slightly to one side, farther from Jade. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her body was still rigid despite her slumber; it was obvious that it would only take one bad dip in the road and she'd be awake.

Artemis had made herself a little more comfortable, her body leaned over to her right and her head nuzzled against Jade's arm.

They both looked so much younger than thirteen, but Artemis in particular... Thea looked older, which she was, since Artemis had only just turned thirteen. But it was more than that. It was more than a few months' difference between birthdays. It was more than Thea growing up in the top district with the best resources at her fingertips in comparison to Artemis, who had grown up underfed and over-beaten, even for Ten. It was even more than the fact that Thea had just watched her father die, and not so peacefully either. No, Artemis had done that too.

It suddenly hit Jade like a ton of bricks what the difference was between her two companions, what made Thea appear so infinitely older.

It was her.

Artemis had her. She had a sister not only to share her pain but also to protect her from whatever came next. Slade hadn't been on Shayera's list of revived tributes, and though Jade was sure she had once heard something about Thea having an older brother, she wasn't sure... And in any case, there was currently no telling where he was now or even if he was alive.

Thea, as far as she was concerned, was alone.

A part of Jade wanted to reach out. If Thea woke up, she could do what she could to comfort her. If she remained asleep, she could simply let her relax against her like Artemis. But Thea probably wouldn't appreciate that. She would see her as overbearing, a nuisance, and, worst of all, pitying. That's what Jade would've thought, if someone ever tried to comfort her thirteen-year-old self.

So, she didn't reach out, and she suffered the rest of the ride in silence.

By the time the transport finally came to a stop and Storm opened up the door, instructing them all to get out, the sun was shining with morning light.

"It's not exactly home sweet home," Storm mused with a little smirk as they filed out and were faced with a mansion almost as big as the hotel in the Capitol. "But it'll do, right?"

As far as Jade was concerned, "it'll do" was an understatement.

The mansion was huge. Built of a mix of wood and stone, with large windows and an almost endless expanse of well-maintained land around it; it made Jade question if this were really District Seven. Yes, she had known Dick and Helena had come from a luxurious background compared to her own; most of the other tributes had. But she had never thought there were houses this large and fancy-looking outside of the top few districts. Even Thea's jaw was dropped.

"Come on," John Stewart ushered them along, with Shayera and Storm following his lead, and so with little more than a glance between each other, Jade, Artemis, and Thea did the same.

The steps leading up to the mansion were steep, made out of thick rock that apparently not even the revolution could disturb. There was a woman waiting for them at the top. She was older, her hair short and gray, with wrinkles dominating her face, but she had the sweet smile that was both comforting and put Jade just the smallest bit on edge at the same time.

"Well, this is a lovely surprise." The woman beamed sincerely as the group of them made their way up the steps. "We weren't expecting you to bring more guests with you."

"We weren't expecting to find you any," Shayera acknowledged. "I hope it's alright—"

"Of course it is!" The old woman cut her off before she could finish the sentence. "We have plenty of room." She then turned her nearly adoring gaze onto the three new "guests" in question, and though Jade knew it was irrational and this place was indeed safe, she still felt the fear creeping up through her chest that the other shoe was about to drop and they were going to be thrown out.

"I'm Mrs. Hopkins. I'm the head of housekeeping here at the Howlett Estate. What might your names be?"

Jade just blinked at her for a moment, her mind trying to process both the fact that they weren't being tossed out and also Mrs. Hopkins' chipper attitude.

"Artemis," her younger sister piped up, holding out her hand, a little unsure, but Mrs. Hopkins didn't seem to notice that and accepted the handshake readily.

"Thea." Thea's voice was barely above a whisper, not that Jade could blame her.

"And I'm Jade." She really didn't know what she was supposed to do here or how she was expected to react to any of this. Fortunately, Mrs. Hopkins didn't seem to find her, or either of the other girls', lack of excitement deterring in the slightest. She simply motioned for them all to follow her into the house and went on her way.

She started to explain the workings of the household, but Jade was only half listening, far too distracted to give Mrs. Hopkins her full attention.

The inside of the house was every bit as beautiful and awe-inducing as the outside. The front hall was massive, so much so that it could've been a room all its own. The floor was made of glossy wood, and a crystal chandelier hung from the high ceiling. Mrs. Hopkins, still talking about something or other, led them into a living room that Jade would say was the size of the entire hotel suite she had stayed in at the Capitol, and that was really saying something. The floor in this room was covered in a thick, expensive carpet that didn't show any signs of having ever been stained. It was a stark contrast to her living room back in Ten, with the ratty carpet that had become a permanent burial ground for every substance ranging from watery pasta sauce to urine dating all the way back to her and Artemis' potty training days. The couch and chairs were made of fine leather, nothing at all like the beaten feather cushions piled onto old plywood and springs where her mother had spent the final year of her life. There was also a television here, huge and mounted to the wall over the brick fireplace. Everything was so spotless and bright — and nothing at all like her home or the Hydra compound. It was truly a new start.

She didn't hear the footsteps coming — the carpet muffled them into silence — but she did catch sight of two newcomers peering around the corner of a doorway at the far end of the room, and her heart stopped.

It was one thing for Shayera to tell her some other tributes had been brought back, but seeing it with her own eyes was a completely different story. There were two heads poking around the corner — two very familiar heads.

The first was Raven, who had still been alive when Jade was eliminated from the Games. Jade had never seen much of her in the arena, nor in the Capitol really, but she looked about the same as she remembered. The same could not be said, however, for her companion.

His skin was pale and his hair a brownish red, his eyes bright and a green color that no longer matched his skin. Jade almost didn't recognize him. But he was there — alive, well, and not green — right in front of her.

"Raven!" Thea exclaimed, snapping Jade from her haze as she ran over to the other girl and threw her arms around her in a hug. It was a surprise, considering how stoically quiet Thea had been ever since training began over at Hydra. But Jade didn't have much time to think about it, because Thea wasn't the only one excited about this little reunion.

The very same boy Jade had never in a million years dreamed she would see again was rushing toward her until he had his arms wound tightly around her waist and he had actually picked her up despite his smaller size. She squealed slightly with the surprise of it all, and he must have taken that as a sign of protest, because he immediately set her down and backed off with a sheepish expression on his face.

"Heh. Sorry Jade, I — whoa!"

She knew this wasn't anything like her, but damn it, maybe it should be, because Garfield Logan was alive and well and she wasn't about to push him away again. She threw her arms back around him and hugged him tight, even going so far as to bury the fingers of one hand in his unruly curls. He was here, in her arms, safe.

They were all safe.

Finally, she had to let him go, and he was still looking at her with an odd wonder in his eyes, until she felt a sudden presence by her side and his focus shifted.

She looked down and beside her and saw Artemis standing there, studying Garfield every bit as curiously as he was studying her.

"Um… Gar, this is Artemis, my sister. Artemis, this is Garfield Logan, the other tribute from Ten."

Gar scrunched his eyes and shook his head as though out of everything he had experienced since the Games (and given the fact that one of those things was coming back to life, it had to be an interesting list), this was the most unbelievable one.

"This is your sister?!" he asked, his tone on the verge of sounding scandalized. "Dude! Why didn't you tell me we were, like, the same age! I always thought she way younger than you!"

Jade almost wanted to point out that Artemis _was_ way younger than her. Artemis and Gar were thirteen, whereas Jade was going to be turning seventeen soon. But she let it slide, if for no other reason than the beaming grins on both Gar and Artemis's faces were too much to ignore.

* * *

"And here's your room," Mrs. Hopkins said as the two of them came to a halt outside of a closed door.

After everyone had had some time to debrief, Mrs. Hopkins had brought the three of them up to the top floor, where many of the mansion's bedrooms were located. Thea was evidently going to be sharing with Raven, and Artemis had just been placed into the room right next door to this one. Her eyes had gone so wide at the sight Jade wanted to laugh. Her sister had never had a room to herself before, never mind one that was even nicer than what Jade had been given in the Capitol. The bed was huge, a king size, and Gar hadn't wasted any time in showing her the fun of jumping up and down on it. Mrs. Hopkins had scolded them for that, so Gar moved on to giving her the grand tour, though Jade wouldn't be shocked if they'd returned to bouncing on the bed once she and Mrs. Hopkins left.

"Just as in your sister's room, there is an intercom in the corner. Should you need anything, just give the button a push, and someone on the staff will answer." Jade nodded along with the instructions, though in truth, she was only half listening. All of this was still so overwhelming. Raven and Gar, Thea and Artemis, Lawrence and Malcolm, Shayera and John, Grimm and Storm, Mrs. Hopkins and this _place_. It was all too perfect, and she knew better than to believe that it could last.

"Miss Nguyen?"

"Hm?" She hadn't realized how zoned out she'd been. Thankfully, Mrs. Hopkins smiled understandingly.

"If you need anything, please, do not hesitate to ask. Would you like for me to close your door on my way out?"

Her impulse told her to say yes; of course she wanted her door closed.

"No, leave it open. Thank you."

Mrs. Hopkins nodded with that sweet smile of hers and headed out, and only once she was gone did Jade allow herself to finally sigh and sink down onto her bed, her mind suddenly very intent on taking stock of this second chance she had been given, because she wasn't going to get a third.

She couldn't shut them out again — Gar and Artemis, plus Harper and Caitlin, if she were to be so lucky as to find them. Not Raven or Thea either, and especially not Red if the universe truly granted her a Hail Mary and reunited her with him. Things were different now. Marvel was in shambles, its pieces scattered all over and up for the taking — and no one was pulling on her strings. Not Lawrence, not the Capitol, not Hydra, not even SHIELD. Lawrence was dead, her mother was dead, but she had Artemis, and they were with SHIELD, hiding out in a mansion. This was all so much that she never could have ever dared to hope for, and it wasn't going to last for long. The revolution would reach them, and they would all have to fight.

But, if she did things right this time, maybe, just maybe, she could hold onto this.


	35. Chapter 35: Mera Mera

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We promise we'll resolve that one cliffhanger that's been cliff-hanging for a while... but first! Have some drama in Four!**

 **Thank you to the writers who reviewed for making us smile and keeping up the energy through this final installment of our trilogy. We love working with you all. Thanks also to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your review! We love to see the kids get a break too ;) And to Slim Summers2002: we also love when the goddess gets sassy lines!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Five - Mera, Mera**

 **Kaldur Ahm**

 **District Four**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach - waiting for a gift from the sea." - Anne Morrow Lindbergh_

* * *

It was good to be home.

Even though the war had come to Four's shores with everything it had, this place still felt like a haven, and Kaldur hadn't been able to stop smiling since he arrived — even in the heat of battle — which had prompted John in particular to tease him that he must have had a concussion.

Kaldur didn't mind the teasing. He couldn't help himself anyway. He was too delighted to be home again.

Everywhere around him, Four was sighing off the weariness of battle. Kaldur could feel it hanging in the air. The wounded were gathered, the dead were counted, and a brief celebration had started, spontaneously, on the beach. Nothing like what Odin's warriors would usually do, considering their loss — but something befitting a district of warriors who could use a little light in the face of their deep grief.

But while so many others were seeking each other, Kaldur found himself drifting toward the edge of the water, his bare feet trailing in the sand. With the battle over, there was time for something selfish, and he wanted to drink his home in, to impress upon his skin the kiss of the beach, to savor the waves.

The feeling of the beach was nothing like the too-clean feeling of the floors in SHIELD's bases. The sand here got into everything, and it was _almost_ like having his body back to feel its embrace.

Finally, he reached the lapping waves, and he took a few steps into the water, closing his eyes and listening to the gentle hum of the ocean beyond him, feeling the wash of water at his feet.

He could have stood there forever.

He missed this. He missed being able to stand in the ocean. And he ached, because it didn't feel the same, somehow. The peace he had so often found in the waves seemed farther away than usual — though he wasn't entirely sure whether it was his new body, the war, his troubled mind, or some combination thereupon that kept him from the comfort he was seeking.

"I knew I would find you here."

Kaldur felt the smile touch his lips. He knew that voice.

He hadn't even opened his eyes yet, but he could feel his queen standing beside him in the gentle waves. And when he did turn to look at her, she was exactly as she had always been. Even the long battles hadn't touched her, not really. She still looked radiant, and he would have bowed — except for the fact that she reached out to rest a gentle hand on his arm.

"It's been too long," Mera said gently.

"A lifetime," Kaldur agreed.

There was so much that Kaldur wanted to say to her. He needed his queen's guidance now more than ever, in the middle of a war filled with the souls of the damned, pulled every which way by battles that seemed to him just as important, with no way to determine which deserved his attention the most. Now, when he stood before her in a body that was not the same one that she had helped him train in the ways of the water... Now, when Four had lost one of its great leaders and he found himself standing behind a someday-queen hoping that would be enough to heal sharp divides… He needed Mera.

And yet, now that she was standing in front of him, he found that he had absolutely no idea what to say to her.

But, as ever, Mera was the one who found the words. "You've changed so much, and yet I still know you as well as you know the sea," she said. "You always come to these sands, these waters, when your mind is troubled."

"There is peace in the water," Kaldur said, looking out toward the waves, the old Atlantean saying strange on his foreign tongue, though it felt right to his soul. It was disorienting, to feel so at home and to feel so disconnected at the same time.

"Always," Mera agreed. She let the silence hang between them, interrupted only by the sound of the waves. "You've done so much, Kaldur," she said at last, and when he turned to her, he was surprised to see that her eyes were shining. "I'm so proud of you."

Kaldur tried to find the words that would measure up to a statement of support like that, but he found that he was completely mute instead. And when words failed him, he would usually fall back on actions, but a bow at this juncture seemed ill-befitting her warmth. But then Mera took hold of his shoulders and pulled him into a hug — one that, Kaldur found, he could have been lost in indefinitely if he'd been given the chance.

When, at last, Mera stepped back, both of their eyes were shining, and she kept her hands on his arms. "Look at you," she breathed out. "My Kaldur. I always knew you would lead us one day."

Kaldur smiled lightly and shook his head. "You only see what you want to see, my queen."

Mera laughed at that. "I see what I have always seen," she corrected him. "Your heart has always ruled your head, no matter how you try to follow Arthur's footsteps." When he looked abashed, she squeezed his arm. "It's no criticism, Kaldur. This land has too many warriors. We need leaders, not generals."

"I have pledged my loyalty to Diana," Kaldur said. He knew that much was obvious; he had followed Diana into battle and stood by her through everything that had happened in Four. But he felt he had to tell Mera personally, so that he could explain, if he could, that it was no rejection of her teachings but rather the best way he could find to put them into practice.

Mera nodded. "I know," she said. "I have seen the two of you together." Her smile softened, and she brushed off his shoulders. "And now, I would tell you something I have learned from all my years standing beside Arthur." When he raised an eyebrow at that, she smiled. "You and I both know that there are different forms of power. I know what Odin told you; now, here what _I_ have to say about what he understood only in part." She leaned forward, until her voice was barely louder than the whispers of the sea around them. "There is more power in being a steadfast voice of hope than there is in any victory of battle. And Four will need a voice like that beside its leader."

"As you have done for our king," Kaldur breathed out. It nearly took his breath away — being compared to Mera. She had shaped him since before he could remember, and now, she stood before him suggesting that he could do as she had done, offer the kind of example and leadership that she had, in her own way, offered Atlantis.

It was daunting.

"You will always have me," Mera promised gently, "for anything you need. But it's time for you to walk the path the drowned gods have long had for you."

Kaldur let out a mirthless laugh. "I should have been in their halls, my queen. Their plans for me—"

"—are no different now than they were before," Mera said firmly. She shook her head and then gestured with one hand, drawing Kaldur's attention away from the sea toward the celebrations on the beach. "You have always looked too far beyond yourself, Kaldur. Stop getting lost. Be _here_."

Kaldur couldn't quite stop his smile as he followed Mera's gaze. Even the Asgardians in mourning were building each other up. He could see Thor talking with Diana and John talking with Sif. He could see SHIELD agents mingling with the residents of the district and Capitolites laughing with the poorest divers. Everyone on the beach had found comfort in the others around them, not in the seas that had always, _always_ called to Kaldur.

"You talk about unity but keep yourself aloof," Mera said gently. "Go." She gave his shoulder a slight push, and when he turned to face her in surprise, she smiled. "Kaldur Ahm, do I really need to order you, as your queen, to _enjoy_ yourself?"

Kaldur let out a disbelieving laugh. "I should hope not."

"Then go," Mera said, matching his laughter with her own. "You are _home_ , Kaldur, and there will be plenty of time for you to bask in the waves. But don't get lost in them."

Kaldur smiled at that, and then, finally, he bowed to Mera, his hand in a fist clasped to his chest. When he straightened up, he could see her eyes shining again, and he smiled to himself before he made his way down the beach toward the louder celebrations.

He was just in time to see one of the stylists that had come to aid SHIELD's fight tackle Logan into the sand. It was such an intriguing sight — a yellow-coated Capitolite taking the director of SHIELD to the ground — that Kaldur couldn't help but smile and redirect to see what was going on.

"You are _so_ not getting out of this, mister!" the stylist insisted, putting her finger in Logan's face.

Logan held his hands up, his palms open near his shoulders, but he made no move to get her off of him. And really, she'd all but perched over him. "C'mon, Jubes. There's gotta be someone better—"

"Better than the _director of SHIELD?_ Better than _my_ victor?" Jubilee, the stylist, shook her head. "No, no. When am I going to get another chance like this to get a sunset on the beach, with a lull in the fighting, with the guy _running things_ right here and available?" She tapped Logan on the chest with every word. "You're going to do this for me, Wolvie, and you're going to do it right now, 'kay?"

"Jubes—"

"Are you going to _stand in the way of me getting married?_ " Jubilee raised an eyebrow. "No? Good. You're totally my best man."

"Didn't think it worked that way, firecracker."

"It does now," Jubilee said, her chin in the air. "So ha!"

"That means I get to threaten him, right? Make sure he won't cross you without knowin' the consequences..."

"If it makes you happy…" Jubilee grinned and kissed his cheek. "Go for it."

"I think I will," Logan decided with a nod before he teased, "Gotta do somethin' to earn my title."

Kaldur smirked to himself, watching the whole interaction with his arms crossed. It was clear to see there was no way Logan could talk his way out of the situation, not with the insistent stylist almost sitting on his chest — and not with the fact that he didn't truly have a good argument.

So it was that much more entertaining when Kaldur stepped forward slightly. To help.

"You should have witnesses," Kaldur said. "And I'm sure if you were to ask my queen, she would be more than happy to officiate. You should have a proper _Atlantean_ wedding if you mean to have it in the waves."

Logan shot Kaldur a smirk, and Jubilee beamed his way. "Ohmygosh, yes!" she said. "Half the style brigade is just _ready_ to step up for us!" She turned back to Logan. "Just waiting on you to clear the official stuff."

Logan smirked a little wider and let Jubilee pull him to his feet. "I'd be honored to stand up for you, Jubilation," he said. "So. Where's Noh so I can smack him around a lil' bit?"

Jubilee beamed at him and then at Kaldur before she rushed off with Logan to go get her soon-to-be-husband, a tall stylist with shock-white hair and blue skin who stood out against the backdrop of district residents. And like she had done with Logan, Jubilee nearly took him to the ground in a tackle, excitedly telling him how everything was set up so they could get their beach wedding then and there.

No one who saw the scene could deny that the two of them were in love. They had their arms around each other the entire time they talked to Logan and to their fellow stylists, and their energy was so infectious that Kaldur could see even the war-weary fighters around them starting to laugh and smile along with them.

"And what has happened now?"

Kaldur smiled as he turned toward Thor's booming voice. Here, he was sure, was an opportunity. Even if Thor didn't know the participants, he was sure that, given Thor's recent personal loss, he could stand to be part of a little excitement. "Our director's assigned stylist has realized that she is on a beach in the middle of a war with her beloved." He gestured toward the brightly-colored group. "I cannot say I blame her. There is no place like the beaches here. If I were to ever get married, I would pick a spot much like this."

"But not quite this spot," Thor said with a teasing sparkle in his eyes.

"No."

When Kaldur didn't elaborate on that thought, Thor only chuckled and put a hand on Kaldur's shoulder. "One day," he said with a knowing smile before he tipped his head toward the celebration. "Shall we? I may not know the participants well, but I believe the best way to move forward from loss is to find new beginnings. Perhaps this is an omen of better things to come, to have so many gathered to celebrate a union, with the guests from disparate places."

"You are beginning to sound like the poet John claims you to be," Kaldur teased.

"But not nearly the only he claims you are," Thor said with a smirk. He paused and looked over his shoulder. "Ah, but he has been fully claimed by the people of Four. Look at him now."

Kaldur smiled and turned to see that John was practically trapped in conversation — not with the Lady Sif, who had his attention before, but with Diana's sister, Donna, who was animatedly telling him some story of her bravery in battle. He chuckled to himself. "Should we rescue him?"

"Wo be unto any warrior who needs rescue from a fair maiden," Thor teased.

"Ah, but a warrior of Themyscira, even one so young…"

Thor laughed at that. "Then perhaps he does need a rescue," he said. "I will play the part of the hero — and you, my friend, should find Diana. If there is to be a wedding in Four, she should be there."

"Aye," Kaldur said with a nod. "She should be there. We may yet have our disparate customs, but we should come together for celebrations."

Thor gave Kaldur one more smile before he went to rescue John, and Kaldur scoured the crowd for Diana. He didn't have to look hard, not when there were so many of her own people who wanted to greet her, to speak to her of the Games and of the war. And yet Kaldur was not surprised to find that, of all the crowd, it was Hippolyta that Diana wanted to spend her time with. The two of them had managed to find a quiet space to talk, and for the moment, Kaldur waited at a respectable distance.

He was glad to see Diana with her mother. He knew from his conversation with Diana before that she was troubled, that she was constantly striving to do the right thing. He hoped that being in Hippolyta's presence would bring her the peace that he had tried to give her with his words and with his actions, with his decision to stand behind her. Perhaps Diana needed her queen as much as Kaldur had needed his.

Eventually, it became clear that Diana and Hippolyta were too wrapped up in their conversation to notice Kaldur, and he cleared his throat lightly, drawing their attention. "There is a wedding taking place on the beach," he explained.

Diana and Hippolyta looked exactly alike in their expressions, both of them with their eyebrows raised high on their heads. "Oh?" Hippolyta said.

Kaldur nodded. "Two Capitolites, former stylists. They have fought alongside SHIELD and feel that this is the best time to seize a moment together in the midst of chaos." He looked toward Diana. "It would be good for you to be there. To represent Four. To show that those Capitolites who fight alongside us have no reason to consider themselves separate."

For a moment, Diana and Hippolyta shared a wordless glance, and then Diana nodded and crossed the span to stand beside Kaldur. "Lead the way, diver."

Kaldur smiled at that. "Just this time."

Diana shook her head, though as they walked together, her gaze was not on Kaldur or on the horizon of the beach. It was clear her thoughts were elsewhere — not that Kaldur blamed her. In the deluge of events that had happened since the Reapings, anyone could be drowned, even a Prince.

"Did you go to the sea?"

Kaldur slowed and turned toward Diana, surprised that she had been the one to break the silence. He had been sure that she needed the quiet, that she needed to think, and so he had given it to her.

But now, he simply smiled and nodded. "It was exactly as I remembered," he said. "And it was different all the same."

"That has always been the case," Diana pointed out. "The sea changes every time you step into it." She tipped her head toward him. "That is why the divers love it. There is always something new, some adventure to face, some battle to be won."

Kaldur smiled. "There are times, Diana, that you seem almost Atlantean."

"And at other times?"

"At other times, you are a Prince."

Diana stopped and turned his way, shaking her head. "And what, pray tell, is wrong with being a Prince?"

"A Prince is not Atlantean," Kaldur said, his smile still the same but his eyes dancing with laughter that he only allowed himself to express when Diana let out a noise of frustration and shoved him in the shoulder.

"You return to the sea and gain a sense of humor!" she accused him.

"I returned to the sea and spoke to my queen," Kaldur corrected her. "And she reminded me that it is no light thing to lead with the heart."

Diana let her teasing smile drop into something warmer as she rested a hand on his arm. "I am glad you were able to speak with her," she said. "I know your heart is still with your queen."

"I am capable of loyalty to more than one person, Diana," Kaldur promised. "I can honor the queen who raised me while choosing to follow the queen who raises Four to unity."

"There is still much work to do," Diana told him honestly. They were not far from the wedding, and they could hear the celebrations and music starting up, but neither of them had moved from where they stood. "War may have unified us, but it has also taken so much from us."

Kaldur frowned at the crease in her forehead and then reached out to clasp his hand to her forearm, pulling her forward until he was resting his forehead against hers. It was an old custom, one that was meant to show not only togetherness but trust, and he felt her relax into the gesture the longer he held her there in silence.

"Diana," he said at last, in a voice as soft as the ocean breeze, barely moving, "it is no light thing to lead with your heart. I will follow mine, and as long as yours unites with it, we will walk the same path."

Diana breathed out a sigh and then nodded, taking a step back to look him more fully in the eyes. "You surprise me sometimes, diver," she said. "I think I know you and your hard-headedness, and then you turn as soft as the sky."

"Perhaps that is the way of all Atlanteans," Kaldur said, unable to hide his smile. "We must live as the sea — at once calm and turbulent. Or perhaps the sea itself was the balm my soul needed to ease my hard-headedness, as you call it."

Both of them stood there, barely inches from one another, letting the sunset fade into the stars as the sound of the wedding drifted toward them on the ocean breeze. And then, finally, the spell was broken, and Diana took a breath before she turned back on the path.

Kaldur followed her to the waiting crowd. He didn't say a word of what had passed between them. He knew better than to keep Diana from her duty. But, for the first time, he truly felt a kinship, a true _friendship_ with Diana. It was more than simple respect, and far better than the antagonism they had originally dealt with in the Capitol.

It was easier, he reflected, to follow someone that he considered a friend.

But he didn't dwell on that thought for too long. There was much to be done still, and time would not wait for him to stand in the sand and think of such trivialities as a reluctant ally turned trusted friend.

Besides, he wanted to watch the sunset on the beach with his own eyes. His new eyes. And no Prince would keep him from the beach for long.


	36. Chapter 36: Favorable Winds

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We've got lots going on in this story, and it's pretty darn exciting! This time, we're bringing you InDeepDarkWood's Storm.**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed and to TheRaspberryVigilante41. (We're also thrilled to see Mera; she's kind of amazing.) We love you all!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Six - Favorable Winds**

 **Ororo Munroe, formerly of District Eleven**

 **District Four, Amazon Village**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _It is not enough to win a war; it is more important to organize the peace."_

― Aristotle

* * *

It was strange to wake up with a cool breeze against her face. Ororo was so used to the oppressive heat of Eleven that it was suspicious to waken where the wind caressed her face and soothed the scrapes and healing cuts on her arms and face.

The people of Four had been far more welcoming than she had expected them to be, given the opinion she had formed from the few she'd met during and after her Games. She was staying in the Amazonian section of the district along with a few SHIELD agents and Forge. She knew there were other houses that had opened their doors and pantries to the soldiers and fighters, because she had seen the house Eric was staying in.

Ororo still scarcely believed that her brother was still alive. Between her landing in Eleven and meeting up with T'Challa, and then the rendezvous with other SHIELD personnel to establish that she would be going to Four to aid the fight there, she hadn't heard word from Eric, undercover and alone.

* * *

" _Little Goddess," Eric said, waggling his sunglasses as he strode up to her. Ororo looked up from her conversation with Forge, breaking into a wide grin as she pounced toward him. Eric caught her in a bear hug, though she felt him wince just a little. She pulled back, a frown replacing the grin for a few moments. "Don't worry yourself about it," he continued, gesturing to his side and flipping his glasses down long enough to wink. "You should see the other guy."_

" _He lying somewhere licking his wounds?" she asked, the grin creeping back up._

" _Naw, he's dead," Eric replied. "Or, at least, I hope he's dead, with those injuries." Beside her, Forge stiffened, and she glanced over to see a dismayed look on his face at Eric's words._

" _What are you doing here? When did you get here?" she asked, attempting to change the subject. Forge had fought people; they all had. Ororo had thought he had gotten to a place where he accepted that that was what needed to be done._

 _She thought she had gotten to that place too, and yet every time she saw a grimace or a nauseated look on her friend, her own heart started to hammer and bound, and she felt a growing need to change the subject to something more pleasant._ Anything _more pleasant. She still wasn't sure if it was her own misgivings or her desire to protect her friend that led her heart to pound like that._

" _Director's orders," Eric said. "Well, not straight from the director. Someone said all hands on deck, and I have two of those. I came with the Cavalry. And let me tell you, it was a show. The Cavalry is something else, and phew, those Fours can fight hard." He paused, glancing between Ororo and Forge. "What are you two doing here?"_

" _We came to fight," Ororo answered, "like you."_

" _We came for assistance," Forge clarified, putting a hand on Ororo's shoulder. "Ororo and Director Logan spoke to Four's leaders yesterday about aid for Eleven."_

" _I wasn't very good at it," Ororo admitted, scuffing the hard ground with the toe of her boot. "Everyone here seems to talk a lot, but it takes them an awful long time to get anything said. They were all very… important. Older."_

" _You're important, Ro," Forge said, giving her a nudge to one side._

" _And that Diana girl isn't all that older than you, you know," Eric pointed out._

 _Ororo beamed at the words of encouragement. "Oh, Diana's got this leader thing down," she said, nodding. "She knew just how to handle everyone. She's like T'Challa. I don't know how she does it. After that meeting, she came up and invited me to meet with her and T'Challa when he arrives."_

" _I think she's Diana, Leader of Four; and T'Challa is the leader of Eleven. Just wait until that meeting," Forge whispered in her ear. "You'll see their differences even more clearly than before."_

" _Enough quarry talk," Eric announced, rounding behind them to push in between Ororo and Forge and place an arm around each shoulder. "Come check out my current abode. The owner of the house is one badass warrior."_

* * *

Ororo could freely admit that Eric's homeowner was indeed a formidable woman, and she felt extremely lucky that Antiope had been too old to enter any Games, let alone _her_ Games, since that would have caused the Fours to win each year with Antiope as a mentor giving them tips to win.

She stretched as she walked over to the window, the empty frame allowing the curtains to swing lazily in the breeze. Ororo let out a little sigh, leaning against the wood, breathing in the air and watching the ocean glisten in the near distance. The sea was a wondrous thing to behold, but it also inspired a little bit of terror when Ororo considered the sheer vastness that lay before.

The little bit of terror was warring with the larger bit of exhilaration she felt. She longed to see what the sea looked like in a storm; would the water droplets pound the waves like the dirt roads and send cascades of water up to the sky? She wondered what it would feel like on a boat, bobbing through the waves that were so unlike _anything_ she had ever seen. _Why did the Capitol not create someplace like here?_ she thought. This _is so much nicer than anything there._ "It even sparkles better than their lights," she said quietly to herself.

She wondered if there was anything left of the room she stayed in at the Capitol or if it had been destroyed. Or if the little window ledge she had sat by in the Games, keeping watch over Steve, was still standing, or if it too was gone.

She wondered if Steve himself was still alive.

"I miss him," she told the sea. Behind her, there was movement, alerting her that someone else was awake. She hoped it was Forge and not the SHIELD agents that were staying in the house. They were nice, and very friendly, but they were also nearly double her age, and even if she _tried_ to be grown up, they didn't have many things in common besides the ability to hit things.

"Who is 'him', Little Goddess?" Forge asked in a teasing tone.

Ororo tilted her head toward him as he stepped softly up to the window with her. "Steve," she said. "I haven't seen him in so long… or maybe it's not so long, just a million things have happened since then and now, and a million and one of those things could cause him to wind up dead."

"He's probably thinking the same thing," Forge mused as he joined her in looking out the window.

Ororo glanced at him sideways through squinted brows, and then landed a punch square on his shoulder. "Was that supposed to make me feel better?" she asked incredulously. "That did not make me feel better."

"What?"

" _You_ are a terrible friend," she continued, giving him another punch for good measure.

"I feel like I'm being punished for crimes I did not commit," Forge observed dryly. "Let the courts know that I came here to look after you –"

"Look after _me?_ " Ororo practically exclaimed, and Forge groaned as she adopted a little lawyer speak. "I am going to presume that your loss of intelligent words is due to hunger; otherwise, I don't think I have enough strength in my arms for the knock-out you are so clearly asking for."

"I only meant I would look _for_ you before you leaped," Forge said in a clear attempt to correct his stumble as he received another cuff.

"The courts ruled in favor of Ororo," she retorted, rolling her eyes and hauling him through the window by his collar. "You're lucky you're still in _my_ favor, or you'd be going hungry right about now."

Ororo led Forge down to the main street, and they spent the next couple of hours gazing at the variety of fish caught in the fishermen's baskets, big, bug-eyed ones; long, flat ones; and fat, stout ones. They were slipping down streets in the hot pursuit of fresh-baked smells, and before long, they were eating bread by the dockside, flicking a splash of saltwater at each other and seasoning the bread with the sea.

The docks had been mostly destroyed in the battle to save Four, but any boat that was still operational was either out on the bay or returning to an anchoring spot in shallow water. Ororo thought it was a fine display of strength in how the Fours recovered. She had seen Diana and Kaldur, former district partners in the Games, speaking with the fishermen she now associated with Arthur Curry and the craftsmen that were Odin's people.

The fisherfolk had divided in half, as had the craftspeople, working to repair the damaged boats. Ororo had seen them walk off together into the Asgardian section in search of trees to help repair the dock.

 _Even in war, life must continue,_ she thought, smiling over at Forge.

"Do you think you should wear a yellow dress for your meeting today?" he asked her, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

Ororo shifted closer to him on the dock. "I want good luck, remember?" she said, flicking her wrist up to jingle the bracelet he'd given her at her Reaping. With the same arm, she shot her hand out to give him a shove, overbalancing him on the dock. Forge let out a little cry as he toppled off the dock, and Ororo cackled with laughter until he grabbed her wrist and pulled her into the seawater after him.

* * *

This meeting was in the same tent in which Logan had convened the leading families of Four after the battle for the district, but that seemed to be where the similarities ended in Ororo's mind. For a start, Arthur Curry's imposing frame was nowhere in sight, which was both pleasant for Ororo to learn and somehow something to feel apprehensive about. The delegate in Curry's place was Kaldur Ahm, who was speaking in casual tones to Shuri; the two were likely discussing something electrical. Ororo was keen to join them; she was interested in electronics, but she had never been given the opportunity in Eleven, and her stunt in her Games was largely thanks to luck and Tony Stark.

She held back from their conversation, though, choosing instead to remain close to T'Challa, watching the Asgardian delegate chat with Diana with a feeling of half-dread weighing like a rock in the pit of her stomach. She did not have the threat of death on her side to make her fearless as she stood in front of Thor Odinson. They had not met since their time in the arena, and Ororo had not spoken to him, nor had she ever _planned_ to speak to him. She had killed the person — _thing_ — that murdered her. She didn't think Thor would feel any differently when faced with his killer.

"What is bothering you, Ororo?" T'Challa asked quietly while they waited for the meeting to start. "Do not tell me that you are nervous. You are surrounded by your peers, by your brethren. And they, like me, will listen to you."

"I'm not nervous," she whispered back. "I'm just hoping I don't get noticed."

"Ororo, you are sporting the most vibrant hairstyle in the room," T'Challa mused. "I think you are going about being covert in entirely the wrong way." Ororo didn't reply, and instead, she tipped her head toward Thor and Diana, raising her eyebrows pointedly in explanation. "Ah," T'Challa said, nodding. "It is hard to come against a former opponent and not consider that the violence between the two of you then will come between you again now." He let out a small sigh, and Ororo reached over and gave his upper arm a squeeze of reassurance, despite his words being meant for her. "All of us are better to let the past remain in the past and to learn from the mistakes we made then to better avoid making the same mistakes now," he continued.

"So I should _not_ electrocute our allies?" she teased, side-eying Thor, as T'Challa chuckled and nodded at her little joke. Thor glanced over, recognition in his gaze as he watched T'Challa and Ororo, before he left Diana, headed toward them. Ororo ignored him, turning her head to look elsewhere, though her heart had begun to hammer in her chest, knowing he was coming closer. "T'Challa," she said softly, gripping his arm more securely and trying to focus on the conversation and not the approaching Thor. "Your past was not _your_ mistake, but you are using _their_ mistake to make yourself a better man. Do not forget that."

"Ororo Munroe, is that you?" Thor's booming voice was like thunder, and Ororo jumped despite herself. "You've grown so tall; you're nearly as tall as I am." She froze as Thor's hand gently gripped her shoulder, creating a human chain as Ororo kept her hand tightly on T'Challa's arm. Bracing herself, Ororo turned to face the man she killed. _Don't panic. You are strong. You don't let them see you cry. Don't let them see you a-trembling._

"It is good to see that you are well, Ororo," Thor said, his entire face lighting up in a grin. Ororo's jaw nearly dropped, though she held her composure. The conversations around them had quieted down, signalling that the meeting was about to start, though Ororo couldn't keep silent for the entire length of that.

"You're… happy to see me well, Odinson?" she asked, tilting her head to one side. "I mean, it is good to see that you, too, are well."

"Of course!" he announced, his grip shifting from her shoulder to a hearty clap on the back that nearly knocked the wind out of her. "It took many months to reclaim my pride after my defeat to you. I tend to lean a bit to the side of grumbling when I lose. Rare as that occasion may be." He shrugged, accepting his flaw with dignity. "I am happy to congratulate you on your victory now, though, and I admit, I do feel slightly better now that you are a more comparable height for an opponent, at least."

"'Grumbling' is perhaps a tactful word," Diana said dryly from behind Thor. She seemed a lot more relaxed in this environment than the previous meetings Ororo had seen her in.

"I would like to point out that of the two people here that have _tried_ to kill me, only one has succeeded, and that, dear sister, proved to be a temporary situation," Thor said with a grin. "If I were a gambling man — which I am — I would think that these were reasonable odds."

"Two?" John Constantine asked. "I think you better count again there, mate, and you'll better your odds." He paused, flicking his finger toward Shuri and Kaldur with a small grin. "I'm sure T'Challa's capable, and his lovely sister was more than willing to do you in after losing her brother, given half the chance."

"Come, come," Diana announced as Shuri smirked at the words in perfect sync with Thor's laugh. There was a slight pause as Diana glanced back to John, her brow furrowing, before gesturing with her hand for the surrounding people to gather. "First, I would like to extend Four's deepest regards and welcome to you, T'Challa, leader of Eleven. We would like to wish you favorable winds and a gentle tide."

"I, too, am pleased to be a part of this union," T'Challa returned. "I am even more pleased that Ororo's words did not go unheard."

"You will excuse Arthur Curry's absence; he has taken it upon himself to search the surrounding water's edge for Hydra agents," Diana said, continuing her greeting.

Ororo let out a small sigh of relief. She had thought Curry's absence was his way of showing displeasure at the proposed agreement between their districts.

Ororo listened to T'Challa and Diana go back and forth, their words formal, to the point — and yet, they still held a familiarity that only times of war could bring out in people. Ororo's gaze wandered to the Four contingent. Kaldur was nodding at T'Challa's words on pooling resources to strengthen both districts, while Thor shook his head, the warrior in him coming out as he voiced concerns for defense of Four if their warriors left the boundaries of Four unguarded.

John Constantine from Twelve was a step off to the side of Diana, his face a picture of neutrality. Ororo hadn't expected anyone from Twelve to be a part of a conversation that was not to impact Twelve itself. Ororo was about to turn her focus from his face back to what Diana was proposing when John's expression changed subtly; his brow furrowed slightly along with a slight shift in weight from one foot to the other. The change was gone after a moment, but the small movement caused enough disturbance for Diana to break off her sentence and glance his way.

"John, what say you?" Diana asked. Ororo watched them both and saw the way Diana's back straightened. "Do you not agree with Thor's concerns for our border?"

 _Our border,_ Ororo thought, musing at Diana's choice of words when she was speaking to a _Twelve_.

After a moment, John finally replied in an even tone. "There are other ways of protecting a border than throwing things at the people that are trying to cross it. That never ends well."

"We are not going to simply _throw_ things at our assailants," Diana replied. "But without manpower, how can we keep it safe?"

"Who made your border, Di? The Capitol bastards, that's who." John gestured out toward the door. "Do you know what's beyond your border, Di? 'Cause I know what's beyond Twelve's, and it's bloody fantastic. Trees that go for miles and will make any stranger's head spin because it's so bloody vast." He looked at Kaldur, who was nodding in agreement. "You've been past the bay in the waters, right? Past the eels and other fish-monsters."

"Aye," Kaldur said. "It's a beautiful thing, the unknown."

"But here's the thing: It doesn't have to be unknown. Damn it, Di, you can just _expand_ Four's borders to well past the treelines and _make_ your own protection. You'll need less people to patrol it, too, when the bad guys have to trek through endless forest and swampland to arrive at the damn destination." John took a deep breath, and his face went back to the neutral illusion it had before.

Ororo was fascinated by how Diana had seen all that from a foot movement.

"We don't have the expertise for such an operation," Diana said after a few moments, taking the words in calmly, the way T'Challa seemed to absorb hot air and exude freshness.

"But _we_ do," Ororo piped up, almost surprising herself with her words. _You are just as important as they are,_ she thought, remembering Forge's sentiment. "We have gardeners and orchard growers, that are patient at teaching and kind to their charges, or else nothing edible would grow."

"I don't think anyone gave Isley that information," Thor said, chuckling.

"Let her speak," Diana said, giving Thor a look. "There will be time for jokes later, brother."

"Eleven can send you some of our best gardeners and foresters. They can help you to create a physical barrier to aid in Four's defense," Ororo said, bolstered by the allowance Diana had given her. "Our quarrymen may be older, but that only means they have many years of experience and can help your builders with more stable structures that will keep them supported."

"You can send Erbesol here, brother," Shuri said. "Then he at least might have a chance in competition without me to constantly beat him."

"Shuri, I think the time for jokes has not yet arrived," T'Challa replied, though his lips had twitched to a small smile. "Ororo has some excellent points. We will send as many growers as we can spare to help you protect your borders."

"Defense is good," Ororo said, "but making peace is better. Why have your warriors fight stragglers when your trees can do that for you?"

"Four will send a quarter of their warriors to aid in protecting Eleven," Diana said. "Arthur Curry thought it more appropriate to send a fifth, or less, but I like to think of myself as a more generous negotiator. I think, perhaps, a little like you, Ororo."

"The Sea King is a stubborn man. You must have made quite the argument," Kaldur said, some of his pride showing through as well as his obvious affection for his king.

"I can see where Arthur is coming from," Diana replied. "We have the sea for protection, but he worries our other borders are too immense, given our injured. Ororo's proposal will ease his concerns for our peoples." She paused, shooting a look at Kaldur. "It is a good thing he is like you, always wishing to care for the lambs. There are always ways to change a man's mind, when you know the right thing to say."

"Have you been speaking to Mera?" Kaldur asked, still a little dubious.

"Arthur and I do not need a mediator," Diana said, though there was a small smile on her face. "We share the same goals. This is not the time for that, however." Diana held her forearm out to T'Challa. "We are in agreement, then?" T'Challa gave her a quick nod and reached out without hesitation to grip her offered arm tightly. She locked her hand around his. Ororo didn't think Diana had been taught their custom. It made her smile a little inside that the districts, so different in many ways, had similarities such as the handshake.

Ororo thought about it later, standing on the veranda of Antiope's home, her stomach content and full from the feast the warrior had prepared for many of Four's visitors. Behind her, murmurings of conversation drifted out, above the music strumming in the corner. There had been wild dances earlier, with Diana in the center, looping arms with Kaldur, John, and even T'Challa and carrying them along in frenzied steps.

Ororo had joined in, and Thor had caught her arm and swung her clean off the ground and around in a circle before passing her on to T'Challa as he whooped along with Shuri, and then T'Challa had looped in with his sister, and Ororo had danced with Eric. Her brother had been correct; Antiope _was_ a badass — in battle and in hosting.

Ororo breathed in the sea air, tasting the salt and sea on her tongue, watching the little harbor boats bob at the destroyed dock as the occasional larger light from Arthur Curry's search party swung back over the bay.

The wooden boards creaked behind her as someone came to join her, and she glanced over to see Forge, his hair wild with the sweat and thrill of the dance as he leaned against the railing, half-watching the sea, half-watching her. "So, did you talk about anything else?" he asked. "After they agreed to your brilliant plan?"

"I think so," Ororo answered. "Did you know they shake their hands like we do here?" She leaned closer to the railing, so her chin was resting between her hands. Forge followed suit, and the horizon's view was altered. He shook his head, his chin rubbing against the wood. "You said that Diana and T'Challa were different, Forge, and they are, they're their own people, that's for sure." She paused, watching the lights twinkle, and hearing the distant lap of waves, even above the music and laughter. "But they are also very much the same."

They stood in quiet together for a time after that, until the audible call of her name caused Ororo to turn back to the house, watching Shuri beckon them back. _Even in war, life rolls on._


	37. Chapter 37: The Right Bait

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Or not-so-happy Friday, considering the evil chapter we're about to hit you with... *mwahahaha***

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have consistently been so supportive and amazing, and thanks to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your review (we also love sibling bonding!) and to Slim Summers2002 (we promise this chapter isn't in Four!) for rocking our review section every time!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Seven - The Right Bait**

 **Ophelia Sarkissian, Alfred Pennyworth, And Victor Creed**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _The goal with hostages is to gradually lower expectations; in nonhostage crises, it's to lower emotions." -David Cullen,_ Columbine

* * *

 **Ophelia Sarkissian**

 **Twentieth Victor of the Avenger Games**

 **In the Capitol**

* * *

Viper was in an _excellent_ mood.

Things were finally falling into place the way she wanted them to. With the Red Skull gone — a victim, in her opinion, of his own failings and obsessive need for possession and vengeance — Viper had been the natural second choice to lead Hydra. She had the power necessary to see herself to the throne: the name of a victor, the fear she had long instilled in the rest of Hydra, and the simple fact that even Schmidt's most loyal recognized the authority she demanded of them.

There were, of course, a few dissenters, like the little Demon Head's daughter, who had taken a small swath of her own supporters and left the Capitol to gather their own strength as soon as Schmidt died. Viper would deal with them when the time came. They weren't nearly as powerful as she was.

And, she reflected as she ordered her men to get everything set up for her next play, she was about to become even more powerful.

She had worked diligently in the year leading up to the revolution to wind her way into the newest little victor's heart, but he'd somehow gotten swept up in SHIELD when the time came. And that was a problem for Viper, especially because she knew just how much power he held as the last official victor. She knew that there was symbolic weight behind having Logan on her side, in addition to the massive following he'd managed to create with all of the trouble he'd caused calling for unity during their time in the Capitol. Additionally, he was an excellent fighter, not to mention a much more pleasing plaything than Schmidt had ever been, even factoring in Schmidt's power and penchant for exactly the kind of sadism Viper had always enjoyed herself.

Of course, Logan's absence was easily remedied; she simply needed the right bait.

And that was why she was in such an excellent mood. Jessica's little tribute had proven himself worth the risk a hundred times over with his catch: not only little Sinthea but also _both_ of Logan's tributes from the last Games. And while Sinthea had been a wonderfully willing instrument in forcing a regime change, Viper's attention was on the rest of the captives now.

She'd left Six with her guards and her captives — there was no point in staying in a compromised site, and besides, there was a throne with her name on it. Once she had arrived, she had her soldiers make sure her new playthings were properly restrained and left to wait for her, lined up neatly, with the Sevens in the middle and a redhead on either end. It was almost a perfectly balanced set, though the height difference with Sinthea on the end meant it wasn't _quite_ even.

"What is it about Seven that always offers up such _lovely_ and well-built young men?" Viper asked Jessica, who was standing ready to help, as ever, as she looked over her new playthings. "This year's girl, too.… You were much lovelier than your predecessor, of course, dear," she told Helena.

"Betcha wish you had whatever's in the water back home," Dick said with a glare, though it was obvious to Viper that he was already panicked, pulling constantly and unconsciously against the ropes holding him. "You could use it."

"I'll just enjoy the benefits of what it does to _you_." Viper smiled to herself before she rested her hand on Dick's chest and smirked a little wider. "And your lovely friends, of course." She stopped to give Kory an obvious once-over. "Sevens and Twelves … such an odd trend. I'm glad it's over now."

Kory narrowed her eyes at that. "You have no say in anything between us."

"No? Well … if anything, your little bird would only be a passing interest … an appetizer while I wait for the main course to arrive." Viper smiled at Sinthea. "You can't be surprised that I'm moving on, dear. Your father was past his prime before the game really began." She chuckled and then turned her attention back to Dick, sure to do her best to make him squirm with the slower, more attentive once-over.

"Try anything and you'll live _just_ long enough to regret it," Helena cut in.

"If history is any indicator with boys from your neck of the _woods_? No. I probably won't regret a thing," Viper said with a smirk.

"So, what, you just brought the rest of us here to watch you drool?" Sin cut in. "You got what you wanted. The Red Skull is dead. We didn't ask to watch you _rebound_."

"Oh, sweet little _traitorous_ Sinthea, no."

"At least I don't throw my lot in with useless scumbags," Sin said, her chin tipped up. "And I don't let other people do the real work. When I get revenge, it's with my own hands."

"Why do you think you weren't killed, dear?" Viper asked. "You did me a favor, ending your worthless father. But now, I need to know where _you_ stand. Have you flipped to go with SHIELD, or will you do as you always swore and give your loyalties to Hydra? As it stands, I'm not sure if you're trustworthy either way." Viper turned on her heel and strutted back to the little alcove by the window, where she had several things laid out. "Finding out is simple enough, of course."

"No wonder Jack works for you," Kory said in a venomous tone. "You are just like him."

"No, darling, Jack … wishes to be somewhat like me," Viper said. "He's creative enough, and his knack for doling out punishment is certainly entertaining … but not nearly as memorable as what I like to do." As she was talking, she was drawing up a measure of some clear fluid into a syringe. "You've spent time with SHIELD, Sinthea. And either you've been collecting information for me or you've been turned. I don't have the patience to ferret out which one it is." She stalked right by the other captives, her expression cold and businesslike before she simply pushed up Sin's sleeve and injected her with the contents of the syringe. "Now … give it a few moments to start to work, and then you can tell me which side you're on." Viper brought the syringe back to where she'd started and pulled up a chair, crossing her long legs as she leaned back to watch, reclining in the seat as if it were a throne.

The other three watched as Sin took a few shallow breaths, her eyes closed tight, before she simply started to shake her head. "You have it wrong," she said. "I don't pick sides."

"Come now," Viper said. "Are you with Hydra or SHIELD?" Her tone was patient, even if her eyes were flashing. "Be quick about telling me, or I'll be forced to mix injections, and that will be much more unpleasant for you."

"I already answered you!" Sin shot back. "I'm not on anyone's side. I'm on _my_ side. My side and my sisters'. That's it."

Viper hummed to herself as she tipped her head up, her long, black hair falling over part of her face. "And which side are your sisters on? I haven't seen Natasha or Katherine in quite some time."

Sin narrowed her eyes. "Only because I found someone in SHIELD willing to get rid of _Kilgrave's_ stupid conditioning," she said. "He was a monster, and you know it."

"I didn't sanction his methods," Viper said gently.

"Then you know why I had to fix what he did to my sister," Sin said. "SHIELD is just a way to get that addressed. I don't owe them anything."

"And Miss Romanoff?" Viper asked.

Sin shook her head slowly. "She's not loyal to SHIELD. She's only loyal to her partner and to our team."

"That I can believe," Viper breathed out. "Fine then, _Miss Schmidt_ — after all your time in SHIELD, perhaps you can enlighten me.… Who has taken Fury's place?" She wasn't pleased at all by how Sin was answering the questions, but if she could at least get something _useful_ from her.…

"Actually," Dick cut in when Sinthea opened her mouth, "it's Alfred. My butler. It was time we all recognized his superior organizational skills."

Viper smirked when she saw what was so plainly an attempt to quiet down Sin. "Be patient, darling; you'll get your turn. Let the lady speak now." Her attention turned to Sinthea again. "Sinthea, dear, who is in charge of SHIELD these days?"

Sin shook her head, but the truth serum was impossible to fight. "Logan," she said. "Fury turned it over to him."

Viper froze, though the expression on her face was hard to misinterpret as she transitioned from shock to utter delight. "Did he now?" She was almost breathless and grinning by the time she'd managed to get that much out.

"Forget it," Helena snapped out sharply. "You won't get him to join this madness. The most _you_ can hope for is that he doesn't kill you when you try."

"Oh, I have ways to keep him calm and complacent," Viper said. "Once I get a hold of him, of course. Don't worry your pretty little head about that, Miss Wayne."

Helena's eyes narrowed. "I know what you've gotten away with in the past, but things are different now." She took a deep breath, controlling her anger. "You won't get past me."

Viper turned her way with a grin. "Oh? And how do you think you can stop me? _Logan_ couldn't stop me, but you think that simply being his little ex-tribute can? Is this a little _crush_ , Miss Wayne?"

Helena's jaw tightened, and she responded through nearly gritted teeth. "I don't get by just on Logan's name or any title the Games gave me."

"No, you think being a Wayne is enough," Viper said. "But that means nothing now. How's Daddy Dearest, by the way? As I understand it, the old house isn't what it used to be."

"Leave her alone," Dick said angrily.

"And you're not even a Wayne," Viper said, smirking Dick's way. "Close … but … you fall short."

"He _knows_ who his family is, you snake," Helena said with her eyes blazing.

"It's hard to be a family with no home to go back to, Miss Wayne," Viper said before she signalled to her guards, smiling to herself. This was one of her favorite parts — before her victims had fully grasped the helplessness of their situation, when they were still full of fire. If she didn't have other things to do, she would have liked to spend more time truly relishing the moment. Perhaps after she was done...

"A house isn't what makes a family. _Things_ aren't what make a family." Helena jerked against her bonds. "You think you can break us? Guess again." She spat at Viper, who only laughed, ignoring her outburst as she gave orders.

"Separate cells, same block. I'll see to each of them one by one." She paused and snapped her fingers. "Leave the boy with me. No reason to pussyfoot around. It's time to send the _director_ a little message."

"Do _not_ touch him," Kory practically snarled, redoubling her efforts to get loose.

Viper ignored her as she turned back to her little tray and carefully applied a new coat of lipstick while the girls were dragged out — literally kicking and screaming the whole way.

"Now," Viper said as she turned on her heel and then strutted back to Dick and rested her hands on his chest, sliding them up to his shoulders. "Time to get camera-ready, handsome."

Dick was almost holding his breath and shaking his head. "I'm a performer, not a trained monkey."

"You don't have to do anything," Viper said, smiling crookedly. "Just sit there. I'll take care of everything."

"Oh, well, if this is a solo act, I'll just leave, then," Dick said, tipping his head toward the door.

"I don't think so," she replied, then sat down on his knee, resting her arm around his shoulders. "You need to be in the shot, darling." She motioned for Jessica to bring the tray with her various little injections over to her, smiling more when she saw how he couldn't take his eyes off of them. "Let's send your mentor a message, shall we? Do you have a favorite color, Dick?" She was looking over the rainbow of different vials laid out and ready to go, though she was sure to watch him out of the corner of her eye as well.

It was obvious the young man was starting to panic, because the quick wit he'd shown before the Games was gone as he silently shook his head, and she could feel his quickening heartbeat underneath her fingertips. "Not… really partial to green right now," he said at last.

"We can change that," Viper said in a low tone, trailing her fingers across his shoulder and then turning his head her way. She was closer than he'd have liked, obviously, but that was part of the fun. He was trembling slightly now, and the timing couldn't have been better as Viper saw out of the corner of her eye when the red light for the camera went on. She held Dick steady as she leaned close enough to kiss him — and then started talking.

"I have three operatives that belong to you," Viper said in a commanding tone. "I'm willing to give them back — for a price, of course. Act quickly, and they won't be any worse for wear. Take too long …" She paused here to look over at the tray and then picked up a vial filled with an almost glowing, ice-blue liquid. She let her tone drop so that, really, only Dick could hear her. "Silly me can't recall what this one does — but it does match your eyes." She was grinning as she slipped the needle into his arm, and only after she'd depressed the plunger did she go for a somewhat innocent expression and a not-at-all believable 'oops'.

Once more, Dick couldn't seem to find anything to say as he shook his head, though anyone watching could see he was having a fully-realized panic attack. He was hyperventilating, and he couldn't seem to stop trying to pull his hands free.

"There, there," Viper said, running her hand through Dick's hair until he started to unconsciously lean into her touch. "You're safe with me." After a few long moments, Dick finally started to relax and stopped rubbing the skin on his wrists raw. His breathing evened out, and he looked drunk — _very_ drunk — as Viper played with showing exactly how _automatic_ Dick's responses were to her. "I'm sure that Logan knows what this does — and how long it lasts. Even if _he_ was never _injected_ ," she said almost directly into the camera. "But little Dicky is safe. For now."

She took a moment longer to let the message — and the drugs — really sink in, until she finally took Dick's head in both hands and pulled him into a long kiss. And to her delight, Dick was relaxed and unfocused enough that he really started to participate as well, getting far more involved until the kiss broke when he needed a breath and she turned back to the camera with a broad grin, delightedly laughing to herself.

"I'll only speak to your new director," Viper said as she started unbuttoning Dick's shirt. "Alone. No weapons, no guards." When the light for the camera went off again, Viper smiled to herself and pulled Dick into one more long and lingering kiss before she got to her feet and signalled for her guards.

She would enjoy watching the little Wayne brat and the Twelve girl when they saw the state of Dick, with lipstick on his face, his hair a mess, his clothes ruffled, and his shirt undone and untucked.

After all, Viper had been doing this for a long time. She knew how to take advantage of an opportunity to destroy three birds with one stone. And she knew that message would get Logan running to her.

Now, all she had to do was wait for SHIELD's new little director to turn himself over to her, and she'd have her prize — and take over SHIELD with him at her command.

* * *

 **Alfred Pennyworth**

 **Wayne Family Butler**

 **Howlett Estate**

* * *

After the ordeal of Wayne Manor being destroyed, Alfred was glad to see all of his charges comfortably relocated in the Howlett Estate.

Well, all but Dick and Helena.

And, if he was honest, "comfortable" was a stretch if he was measuring his own experience.

He had known the staff at the estate for _decades_ , and yet they insisted on treating him as some sort of… guest.

It was disconcerting, listening to Mr. Kenneth and the rest of the staff call him "Mr. Pennyworth" or dealing with Mrs. Hopkins turning away his offer of help. And to find himself turned out of the kitchen…

"This is absolutely ridiculous," Alfred informed Mrs. O'Malley that morning as he tried — once again unsuccessfully — to find a way to make himself _useful_. "I'm not trying to supplant you. These children were under my care!"

"And we have more than enough staff to take care of every one of them, Mr. Pennyworth. And you know it. So just be a good houseguest and relax," Mrs. O'Malley said.

Alfred shook his head. "It's not in my nature to be waited on," he insisted. "You understand, of course."

"And it's not in my nature to take too much guff from someone who's under our care. If you'd like to take it up with Mrs. Hopkins—"

Alfred let out a huff of annoyance. "Indeed. And do you suppose you might venture a guess as to what she said when I offered my help?" he said. "This is intolerable."

"I'm very sorry that you find our care so sub-par, Mr. Pennyworth, but I'm very sure that Mrs. Hopkins would turn you down should you want to take over. I know you have a standard that you like to keep at Wayne Manor, but we have our own chain of command here, and I'm afraid, sir, that the master of the house asked us to care for you."

Alfred's expression clearly said what he thought of that, though before he could argue any further, Mrs. O'Malley smiled a little more to herself and pulled out the trump card.

"Mr. Wayne agreed with him, sir."

"Of course he did," Alfred sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. But he would never speak ill of Bruce Wayne, even in front of old friends, so he found himself, still irritated, retreating to the main foyer, where two of the children that had been at Wayne Manor — Barbara and Scott — were pulling on their shoes on their way out.

Barbara looked up and smiled Alfred's way with a little wave. "We won't be long. Just going to go talk to my dad. Some of the old Sentinels — the good ones — are going to help us get everyone that was at Wayne Manor set up somewhere safe once the excitement dies down."

"Best of luck, Miss Gordon," Alfred said, slipping easily into a warm and encouraging smile that was at this point well-practiced. "And please, give my regards to your father."

"Always," Barbara said, smiling as she grabbed Scott's arm, and the two of them headed off, already deeply in conversation about their own plans.

Alfred shook his head as he watched the two of them leave and then sat down, suddenly at a loss for what to do.

"Feeling well enough to visit?" Mrs. Hopkins asked — just as she set his tea down next to him.

Alfred let out a breath and then gestured for her to join him. "You run a tight house," he said, then took a sip of the tea and had to add, "And the tea is excellent."

"I have to run it tightly, Mr. Pennyworth," Mrs. Hopkins said. "Too many on the staff to let them get complacent. Besides, it's been a lot for them to do, bringing this place back to its old glory."

"Yes, well, I'm accustomed to running things at Wayne Manor unaided. Boredom does _not_ suit me," Alfred said, one eyebrow raised. "As I have been trying to tell you."

"And I'll not be letting myself or any of the staff _off_ from doin' their jobs when we've just now gotten our James back. You know how it is to make sure it's all done to the letter."

"And I've said before: I'm not looking to supplant but supplement," Alfred said. "Or don't you realize my own Master Dick and Miss Helena are still missing — and I have nothing to do but wait?"

"I did manage to hear that," Mrs. Hopkins admitted. "And I'm sure once Master James returns, we can find something for you to do. But I know he and Mr. Wayne discussed how best to make you comfortable — and to heal fastest." She paused. "Have you taken the pills that lovely little SHIELD doctor left for you? I can have one of the maids go retrieve them if you're close to needing some."

Alfred let out a sigh. It was a fair point. He _had_ been injured in the blast, and he knew Master Wayne in particular had been worried. But he'd lived through more wars than this one and still carried on; he wasn't going to stop now. "I'm not invalid, and I do take care of myself."

"Of course you do," Mrs. Hopkins said, puffing herself up a bit. "But if you don't mind me saying, Mr. Pennyworth, you look like you were dragged through a hedge backward. A bit of rest would do you some good."

"And I'm sure I will get it when my charges are safely back at home," Alfred said. "But if I might be frank with you, I don't think I shall rest until then."

"Mr. Pennyworth," Mrs. Hopkins said gently. "It's going to take some time to rebuild; I'm sure you're aware of that much."

"Oh, I know," Alfred said. "But to see them in Seven again — you understand, they haven't even been here in the district since Reaping Day…"

She nodded her head at that and looked thoughtful. "Perhaps it wouldn't hurt if you wanted to help Mrs. O'Malley in the kitchen to find something that the Wayne children would … _appreciate_."

Alfred let his shoulders drop at last. "Thank you," he said.

"It's been so _long_ since Master James has even been here.… I know better than most how hard it is to know your charges are adrift."

Alfred smiled softly at that. "We're all happy to see him a bit more grounded, even if he is somehow in even more danger than before." He got to his feet. "I know Master Bruce is fond of him as well."

"We're aware, Mr. Pennyworth," Mrs. Hopkins replied. "We had to listen to the old man for years ranting about Mr. Wayne and all of his meddling."

Alfred simply responded with a fond smile. "Yes. I'm sure," he said. "Now then, I'll need a pie tin…"

"Anything you require, we shall provide," Mrs. Hopkins said as they fell into step, slowly making their way to the kitchen.

Alfred gave her a sidelong look. "Something tells me you're quite enjoying yourself."

"Having all these children around? What in the world would give you that idea, Mr. Pennyworth?"

* * *

 **Victor Creed aka Sabretooth**

 **Eighteenth Victor of the Avenger Games**

 **Hidden near the House on the Hill**

 **District Seven**

* * *

Victor had felt as if he'd been more than patient waiting for the right moment to get a hold of the little Runt, but the bastard simply wasn't stickin' his head out of his ritzy little hidey hole. Victor was, on the other hand, catching snippets from one sack of meat after another, slippin' around District Seven like they owned the place and makin' it sound like the lil' fireplug was a lot more important to their stupid rebellion than Creed had initially figured.

And he couldn't let that stand.

All Victor had to do was draw him out. But for that, Victor knew he needed _bait_. It was just a matter of pickin' the right target.

He leaned back against the corner post outside of the bar, smoking a cigarette and watching people going back and forth. There were a lot more loggers in town as of late. The war put a pause on industry, and the men that'd been worked to the bone cutting and hauling and makin' lumber weren't in a big rush to keep pushing. But even with the extra bodies, it was easy to spot SHIELD; the new flannel shirts looked too clean and too crisp to belong to anyone that came from Seven. Especially when wandering around in packs. Hell. Even the loggers'd throw the new flannels in the wash before they wore 'em around. But these guys … yeah. They didn't know what they were doin' — and they sure as hell didn't belong.

Victor took a long drag on his cigarette and held it, letting the smoke prickle in his lungs and throat for a moment before he slowly blew it out through his nose and mouth, tossing the spent cigarette butt into the dirt street as he kicked himself off of the corner and started to follow the little pack of obvious SHIELD agents. He gave them a little bit of a lead, letting them think they weren't being followed, if nothing else so he could see who, exactly, in District Seven was _backing_ the spoiled little Howlett brat.

And he wasn't disappointed.

Just outside of the walls of the Howlett Estate, in a small, quiet, moss-filled patch of forest, the new-flannel-clad operatives met up with not only the head of the cutting crew, Smitty, and a couple of his men, but the old Head Sentinel … and a few of his favorite Sentinels as well. 'Mac' Hudson looked clearly relieved to see the SHIELD operatives, and all of the cutters that had shown up with Smitty weren't giving off the usual signs of pure distrust and loathing usually reserved for SHIELD.

 _Has the whole damn district lost it's flippin' mind_? Creed thought to himself as he watched the easy alliance in front of him. This … wasn't how his home district was supposed to act in the face of _SHIELD_ … and the Sentinels? Since when was the cutting crew on friendly terms with them?

Creed took a moment to consider what they were carrying and how they were distracted before he simply rushed forward and clocked Gordon hard enough in the face to knock him backward.

In a heartbeat, the brawl broke out, but the cutters didn't see that Victor had already pulled out his Bowie knife. As they closed in on him, Creed struck out with a shout, smiling to himself as the knife met flesh and dug in deep. He didn't know or care who he'd hit as he twisted the blade, his hand resting against the warm body as he did so.

With a cry of pain, Puck fell back, his hand over a quickly bleeding hole at his right side. The blood was dark and flowing fast. Smitty abandoned the fight just long enough to see that Mac was trying to help Puck — and then he dove back in, his own knife held in his hand, with the blade sticking out in a fighter's grip.

The fist fight between them was accented with slashes, and though Smitty was a heavier hitter, and a top bare-knuckle brawler, Creed played _dirty_.

"You never had a chance to be anyone this place cared about, Creed," Smitty said as the two of them circled each other. He hadn't done much damage to him, and Creed knew Smitty was trying to get in his head. "You're too stupid, too ugly, and too damn mean for anyone to even begin to care about."

"Thought that's what you needed to live in this place," Creed said before he charged forward, skillfully dodging Smitty's punch only to grab a hold of his outstretched arm, yank it behind his back, and then reach around to stab him in the heart. The blade made a hard tearing sound as it cut through the wet bone, and then a crack echoed when Creed twisted it hard. Smitty cried out and dropped to his knees — pulling the blade out of his own chest from the drop as Creed held tight to it.

Creed was smiling and panting as he watched Smitty sputter, his hands shaking as he slipped flat to the ground. He wasn't paying attention to the reaction that came from from Mac and Gordon.

Gordon was in open shock, and Mac … Mac stood, his hands still bloodied from trying to stem the flow as he'd tried and failed to triage Puck. Creed knew that Mac had been friendly with the cutter's crew, so making him watch as he snuffed a couple out was worth the effort.

It took a moment for Mac to pull it together as he fought to gain control of his emotions. He had barely managed to keep his focus for Puck, and now … now he couldn't do anything to help as he watched the life seep out of Smitty, staining the mossy ground. His jaw locked, and his fists clenched at his sides as he stared up at Creed, his face still downturned. Creed chuckled on seeing it. As Creed took a step toward him, Mac snapped out of his haze and seemed to suddenly remember his sidearm, snapping it up with military precision.

"Freeze!" Mac and Gordon shouted, nearly in unison, their guns raised and both of them looking perfectly steady — in spite of the shock of what had just happened. Neither of them could get close to Smitty to try and help, and it was clear to everyone there that it would have been wasted energy in any case. Mac swallowed hard as he took in Smitty's unseeing stare, though Gordon was clearly on top of things.

"You have no way out of this, Creed. We're not Sentinels anymore; we don't have to let you wander around terrorizing anyone. If you want to live, you'll put your hands on your head and get on your knees. _Now!_ "

"Never gonna happen," Creed growled out. He smiled crookedly and pushed his hair out of his face with his hand, smearing blood in its wake. "Now … your time tellin' people what to do around here's over, old man." He lunged to attack Gordon and was fast enough to knock his gun arm aside and crack him in the jaw, but before he could really lay into the man, Mac dropped his rifle and stepped into the way with a hard right hook that sure as hell wasn't in any of the Sentinel training procedures.

But it did look familiar.… Creed just couldn't place it right away as Mac squared up and kept hitting him, grunting with every hit. Mac was starting to let out that primal thing that hides in the hearts of civilized men and women, but it wasn't until Mac knocked the knife loose with a knee planted in Creed's gut that Victor _did_ recognize something about Mac that he simply hadn't seen before. It was _little_. Just … in the shape of his eyes when he was really ticked off and the way he set his jaw. "Sonofabitch," Creed almost breathed out an instant before Mac swung again and cuffed Creed in the side of his head.

"You'll leave him alone, you low down sack of crap," Mac said, his voice holding a far more familiar gravelly tone when he was that mad.

Creed stared at him for a second and then let out a growl. "Oh, hell. Now I can see it," he said, more and more annoyed as he realized what exactly he saw. "How the _hell'd_ you end up here?"

Before Mac could answer, the gate to the Howlett Estate was swinging open, and Gordon's little girl took in the scene, rushing toward her father, with that skinny orphan kid that Mac would often pay to run errands for the Sentinels that were too busy to "get involved" in the district right in her wake.

Creed didn't pay them any attention as he went back to Mac, growling to himself. "Now I can see the Runt in ya; why the hell didn't I see it before?" Mac shifted his stance, obviously putting himself between Creed and the young newcomers. "You ain't a Howlett … so it's gotta be the other side, don't it?"

"What's he talking about?" Scott asked as he rushed up with Barbara, looking between Mac and Creed as the two men started to fight in earnest, fists flying and hitting hard — and Mac, surprisingly, was keeping up blow for blow. Even when it was clear that the hit had done him harm, he stubbornly gritted his teeth and just. Kept. Fighting.

"I can't believe I missed it!" Creed barked out before he bashed Mac hard enough to knock him flat backward. He was quick to rush over him, wrapping his hands around Mac's throat. "There's more than a passin' _family resemblance_." He was squeezing harder, ignoring the hits Mac was getting in — and the grasping, clawing attempts to peel his hands from around Mac's throat. "Of course the friggin' Sentinels would look the other way for the high an' mighty _Howletts_. No family here my ass. You and the Runt … in cahoots the whole time… " He squeezed harder. "It's alright, Hudson.… He won't have any family here for long …"

Mac was fighting back hard, pushing against Creed, though his coordination was failing him terribly the longer Creed squeezed his throat. Which was when he really started to show the family resemblance to Logan, his nose scrunched up as he grimaced, trying to make contact in a desperate and futile attempt.

"Let him go while you still have a choice," Scott said, obviously moving closer to help. He raised the bloodied rifle that Mac had dropped and pulled the trigger as he'd been shown by the SHIELD agents at Wayne Manor ... but the gun was jammed and simply didn't fire. Frustrated, Scott changed his grip on the gun, moving to use it as a blunt object instead.

But Creed wasn't paying attention until Scott rushed forward and hit him with Mac's dropped rifle hard enough to make him loosen his grip on Mac — and before he could recover, Scott hit him again, following it up with a solid kick to Creed's chest that gave Mac enough room to start coughing hard as Gordon pulled him away.

Creed wheeled around to nail Scott, though as he drew his arm back, Gordon shot at him, at the least drawing his attention from Scott as the bullet zipped past Creed's ear, cutting him with a near miss that blew his long, blonde hair out. "Old man wants to get heavy on me, eh?" Creed growled out. "Fine with me."

Gordon was shaking his head sporadically, and it was obvious even from a distance that the older man was still a little punch drunk. Creed reached down to retrieve the dropped knife and whipped it at Gordon, nailing him high in the shoulder, and cursed his aim. The hit from the smart-mouthed kid must have done more harm than he thought.

Still, it might not have been a fatal blow, but when James Gordon let out a cry of pain — and dropped his gun — Barbara and Scott went into motion. Scott had tried again to clear the jammed chamber on the rifle and was just raising the weapon again when Creed rushed him, intending to grab the gun from the kid and pay him back for the earlier hits — but that put him right in Barbara's path, and she had a surprise up her sleeve.

She was glaring as she shoved the Taser into Creed's side. "Hit my dad again and I'll aim lower," she promised in a deep, dangerous tone.

Creed was more than a little shaken, not that he would admit it. "Doubt you're big enough to worry about lower, frail, but I can show you all about it a little later," Creed said low, glaring at her. It was obvious that he was planning to backhand her hard as he stumbled the first few steps her way, already drawing his hand back.

And that was when Scott stepped in again, swinging the rifle to make Creed back away from Barbara. He flipped it over and drove the butt directly up into Creed's face, knocking him back and leaving him tasting his own blood. "Hands off," he said.

Creed was beyond angry — and ready to take the kid's head off — when another shot was fired and missed him, ricocheting between the trees. Creed whirled around, and he watched as Gordon took a more measured aim, resting his arm on his knee to stabilize himself for the kickback.

"Next time, I won't be so _nice_ , Red," Creed hissed out before he darted into the trees, leaving the four of them alone in the bloodied clearing. He was angry that he hadn't killed more of them, but a couple of guys from the Runt's old crew would have to do. He knew Smitty had always favored Logan, and Puck was one that seemed content to fall into the kid's footsteps, so at least that was two more down.… The Summers kid would have to wait until next time …

He just needed to keep a closer watch to see where it was all centered — and to watch who was coming and going. Anyone that was close to Logan had to pay. Guilt by association was a crime punishable by death, after all.


	38. Chapter 38: Vögelchen

**(A/N): Strap in, you guys. After that pretty awful chapter last time, we're going to give you diabetes with the fluff. We swear. Ophelia Claire does the BEST Kurt Wagner, bar none.**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have reviewed, and thanks especially to our steady reviewers of awesomeness. :) Slim Summers2002, we tend to like Alfred ourselves; he should so run things! Pelirroja2012, your wish is our command! We bring you... another (sort of) redhead chapter! And TheRaspberryVigilante41... oh yes. Pie is always the best possible idea. We had to throw some Alfred goodness in there with all that evil, after all!**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Eight - Vögelchen**

 **Kurt Wagner, Formerly of District Nine**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _Together again,_

 _Now we're here and there's no need remembering when_

 _'Cause no feeling feels like that feeling_

 _Together again."_

-The Muppets, _The Muppets Take Manhattan_

* * *

One visit before everything had blown up in their face — literally.

Kurt had gotten one visit with Kate, and he couldn't even call it fully wonderful, the way Kate had reacted to him at first.

Which had been terrifying and devastating, to say the least. The way she'd been scared to come close, how she'd backed away every time he took a step forward, like she was some kind of cornered animal. How she'd begged him not to come closer because she didn't want to hurt him, even though he knew she wouldn't.

But the way she'd fallen into his arms had felt so right. She still fit perfectly into his embrace like she used to. They were two halves of a whole — certainly broken, a little chipped in some places, but they still fit together.

And then the base had fallen under attack and they'd been forced to evacuate.

* * *

 _With the (eventual) positive reaction to Kurt entering the room, Charles had opted to let Kurt just sit with Kate for as long as time-sensitive issues would allow, and Kurt was absolutely thrilled to simply sit on the floor with Kate in his arms._

 _She clung to him, her head tucked into the curve of his neck_ — _he'd gotten taller than her while they'd been apart_ — _and he let his arms stay draped around her. Not holding on tight, in case she felt the need to move away, but an embrace that hopefully still felt safe and friendly._

 _Just when Kate was starting to relax; when her arms were starting to cling a little less tightly, the first alarm had wailed. She'd immediately tensed up again; her head had snapped up from his neck, and her eyes were full of fear._

" _Kate, it's okay,_ liebling _. It's going to be okay." Kurt could feel Kate shaking slightly against him, and he carded a hand through her hair. The door opened behind him, and Charles entered with a doctor in tow._

" _I'm afraid we're going to be forced to revisit this session elsewhere," Charles said, then paused, honestly looking unhappy with the options he had available. "I truly wish there was another way, but we are rather pressed for time."_

 _A pair of men rushed by Charles and went right for Kate. It was clear they intended to get a solid hold on her before she could truly start to fight, and before she could get more than a decent swing or two in against them, one had managed to put a hypodermic needle in her arm and depress the plunger._

 _In the short time it took the sedative to take effect, it was obvious Kate was terrified, trying to pull away from the men, to kick at them or hit them, but this stuff was clearly fast-acting_ — _and honestly spoke to the fact that they'd had to use it before to keep her from hurting anyone, herself included._

 _Kurt scooped Kate up as she went limp against him and hurried after Charles. "I wish we didn't have to do that," he said, shifting his arm so Kate's head didn't loll backward. "She's going to be terrified when she wakes up somewhere new, especially after going under during chaos like this."_

 _Charles shook his head. "I know, Kurt. It wasn't my favorite option, but I don't know how she would otherwise react in a crisis situation. She could try and bolt and get herself into even more danger, or she could lose sight of who's friend and who's foe. You've just seen how she reacts to even a small threat." He let out a sigh. "I can only hope we haven't lost too much of her trust with this."_

* * *

Kurt followed Mrs. O'Malley through Logan's house — _Logan's_ house, not his Victor's Village place — with Kate in his arms once more.

Not that Kurt was complaining — he had a _long_ time to make up for — but he wished the circumstances were a bit better.

Mrs. O'Malley led them to a room at the end of a long hallway. "It's set for two, and this wing should be very quiet," she said before going down a quick list of the ins and outs of the house. "Let us know if you need anything else, dear."

"Thank you," Kurt replied. "For the room, and for letting us all into your home on such short notice."

"Oh, it's no trouble at _all_ ," Mrs. O'Malley said firmly. "Any friend of our James is a friend of ours and _more_ than welcome here. Besides, It's long past time he came _home_ ," she said, with a raise of one eyebrow that offered no room for argument.

"It's a little strange to hear him called that," Kurt said as he entered the room. It was small and cozy, with two beds, two dressers, a squashy-looking chair by the window, and a nightstand placed between the beds. Kurt laid Kate down gently on the closer bed. She stirred slightly as he did, mumbling something that Kurt couldn't make out. "He's been 'Logan' to me for as long as I've known him."

Mrs. O'Malley seemed to puff up a bit at the name. "That certainly might be what he's been going by these days, but to us, he'll always be _our James_." It took her a moment to gather her composure, fiddling with her aprons. "At any rate, I do hope he stays here for more than just a little while. We've missed him terribly," Mrs. O'Malley said, clasping her hands in front of her. "We were all frankly frightened for him during those Games. You did him quite a bit of good, I think, Mr. Wagner." She gave Kurt a kind smile. "I'll leave the two of you be. Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all." At that, Mrs. O'Malley stepped out and headed back down the hallway.

Kurt sat down on the edge of Kate's bed as she stirred once more, her eyelids fluttering slightly. Kurt took her hand and gently brushed his thumb across her knuckles.

"Kate?" Kurt asked quietly. "Are you with me, _liebling?"_ Kate mumbled something else before her eyes flew open and she jerked upright, panic clear on her features. Kurt kept hold of her hand and put his other hand on her arm. "Kate, everything is fine. You're safe, I promise. Everything is okay."

Kate met his gaze with her wide, panicked eyes. "Kurt?" she whispered between rapid breaths.

Kurt nodded, squeezing her hand. "The one and only. Everything's fine. We had to evacuate the base. We're in Seven. We're actually…" Kurt hesitated, unsure of how Kate would react to anything related to Logan. "We're at a safe house."

Kate didn't speak for several moments, letting her breathing slow as the cornered-animal look faded from her eyes. "They knocked me out," she said eventually.

"I know, I'm so sorry, Kate," Kurt said. He opened his arms slightly, the invitation for a hug available if Kate wanted it. She scooted forward and wrapped her arms around him. Kurt returned the hug, feeling her relax into him.

"'M tired," she mumbled.

"Too much excitement for the day, I think," Kurt said with a smile.

"Got to see you again, though," she said, and Kurt felt her smile against his collarbone.

"Kind of makes up for everything else," Kurt agreed. He turned his head to plant a kiss on her forehead. "We need to get you some black dye, I think. Red's not your color."

"Natasha can help," Kate mumbled. "But sleep first."

"I think that sounds like a plan," Kurt said. "You sleep. I'm going to go take stock of… everything. You get some rest." He kissed her head once more and released Kate before heading for the door. Kate wiggled her way under the covers as he shut the door.

Out in the hallway, someone was waiting for him: a girl about his age, with curly, dark hair and very tan skin. She wore cutoff shorts and a denim jacket, and she was leaning against the wall opposite the door to Kate and Kurt's room.

"Hi," she said casually.

" _Guten Abend_ ," Kurt replied. "I don't believe we've met." The girl took his arm and led him down the hall. "And we're walking," Kurt said, mildly surprised.

She pulled him into a room further down the hall. "My name's America Chavez." She closed the door behind them and wheeled around to face him. "What exactly are your intentions with my best friend?"

Kurt was speechless for a moment. "I — your—" Then, the name clicked in his head. Kate had talked about her around one of their campfires back in the Games. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh,' and I asked a question, _chico_. Katie's important to me. I thought I lost her once, and you bet your ass that now that I've got her back, I'm gonna be _real_ careful about who I let near her."

"I promise you, America, I have nothing but the best intentions for Kate," Kurt said. "Kate means the world to me as well. She… I don't know what I would do without her. She's the best person I've ever met and I… oh." Kurt stopped as his brain caught up to what he was about to say.

And then he said it anyway. "America, I love her. I love her with everything I have to offer, and I swear to you, on my mother's name, I will do everything in my power to make her happy and keep her safe for the rest of her life."

America regarded him coolly for a minute. Kurt met her gaze, waiting for her judgement. He could feel the heat of a blush rising up his face, and he was sure his ears were turning what could at this point be called his signature shade of pink. It was _terrifying._ Why was this girl so terrifying? Not that it surprised Kurt that Kate's friends would be rough-and-tumble, but something about America promised absolute follow-through on any threats she might make.

Then, America grinned widely. "Yeah, I know you will. I've known since I saw the way you looked at her in the Games. But it's always fun to make people squirm a little bit." She winked at him. "Be good to my girl," she said as she practically bounced off, calling over her shoulder, "I'll know if you don't!"

Kurt stood in the room for another minute before he shook his head and headed out the door.

His meetings weren't over yet, though. Barely twenty steps down the hall, he was blindsided with a hug from behind.

Kurt staggered, then went down, unable to keep his balance. The hugger sprawled on top of him and then rolled off to the side.

"Sorry, not sorry, Kurt!" Peter said. "I didn't mean to take you down like that. So easy, though!" He scrambled to his feet and hauled Kurt up after him, an absolutely delighted grin on his face. " _You got her back! Kate! And you! Finally!"_ he said, in a voice that was clearly holding back a shout.

"Yes, I did, and she's asleep down the hall, so keep it down, _mein Freund_ ," Kurt said with a grin, then threw his arms around Peter. "Pete, she's okay. She's going to be okay, and she's mine and I'm hers and she _remembers_ me!"

"Well, of course she does." Peter returned the hug. "Everything's coming up Team Awesome, huh?"

Kurt frowned. "Well. Half of us, at any rate." He pulled away from Peter and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I'm worried about Logan. I think he's trying to stay away from me, because he _knows_ I'm worried about him and he probably thinks I'm going to corner him for a conversation again, and you _know_ what I did last time I cornered him for a conversation." Kurt blew out a frustrated breath. "And it definitely wouldn't go that way this time, because last time, I just had a lot of pent-up… stuff, you know? And I was angry, and this time I'm just worried about my best friend."

Peter put on an affronted look. "I thought _I_ was your best friend!"

Kurt punched him gently on the shoulder. "I can have more than one, web-head."

Peter pretended to pout for a moment before returning to the problem. "To tell you the truth, you're not the only one. I'm a little worried about him too. It seems like he's getting more and more reckless with his missions and like he cares less and less about how _he_ ends up, so long as he takes care of his _objective_."

Kurt nodded. "I don't want to corner him about it — he gets cagey — but if I don't corner him to talk, he'll find some way to slip away. It's kind of a lose-lose scenario."

Peter put a hand on his shoulder. "Here's my suggestion — from a _best friend_ —"

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Never ever, and you brought it on yourself. Anyways, my suggestion, frankly, is to cross that bridge when you get to it. Logan isn't even available to corner right now, and you've got Kate back, and you guys have a _whole year_ to make up for. Focus on the happy right now. Not everyone is so lucky to get that kind of happiness in the middle of all this crazy."

"How did I get lucky enough to have such a wise thinker as a best friend?" Kurt asked, pulling Peter into a brief one-armed hug.

"Best friends have best advice," Peter said. "Now go spend time with your girl. I'm gonna keep exploring. _This place is_ _insane_." He bumped Kurt affectionately with his shoulder and headed off down the hallway.

Kurt had other plans while Kate was asleep, though. As he watched Peter head down the hall, clearly blown away, Kurt wandered off to find a member of the house staff. The first one he found was Mrs. Hopkins.

"Oh, hello! What can I do for you, Mr. Wagner?" she asked. Kurt was extremely impressed that she already knew his name.

"I was just wondering — I know this is a long shot — but you wouldn't happen to have any books on German, would you? It's an old language that was spoken outside of Marvel years ago."

Mrs. Hopkins placed a hand on her chin as she thought for a moment. "If we do, they would be in the library. I'm afraid it's not as grand or as full as it was before the first war, but the Howlett influence did allow us some little indiscretion." Her eyes were twinkling as she thought of how they'd managed to have a whole library under the Capitol's noses — probably because no one came to the estate anyway. "I'd be happy to show you where that is, if you'd like."

Kurt nodded. "Please, I would very much appreciate it."

Mrs. Hopkins led him to the library. It wasn't exactly massive, but the shelves were floor-to-ceiling and covered every wall in the fifty-foot room, as well as a few smaller, free-standing bookcases in the middle of the room. She showed him to a shelf in the far corner and took a long moment to make sure she had the right section. "I don't know exactly what's in the catalogue, but if we have anything on German, they'll be on this shelf here." She paused and turned his way with a warm smile. "Is there anything else you might be needing, Mr. Wagner?"

Kurt shook his head and thanked her before she left, and then he began browsing the books on the shelf. The books were the right topic, certainly; the first ones he encountered were books on etymology and grammar. His spirits lifted when he found books about other languages, and they absolutely soared when his fingers landed on a book of German basic language. How lucky was he?

Kurt had plans to start from the beginning of the book, but there were two things he needed to find. After a little bit of flipping back and forth through the pages, he found both of them with little trouble. As he continued skimming through the pages, a couple words jumped out that he knew.

A section headed "Diminutives" caught his eye as he turned a page.

 _Diminutive noun endings are used for a smaller version of something, such as "Katze" and "Kätzchen" ("cat" and "kitten"), but they can also be used to denote informality or affection. Remember that adding a diminutive will always make the noun neutral, it will never be plural, and, when applicable, will add an umlaut to the base word. Practice the base word by itself and with the umlaut to understand the differences in the sounds._

Kurt smiled. It was perfect.

Later, back in his and Kate's shared room, Kurt read through the book more carefully while Kate slept. He glanced over at her and smiled softly at the peaceful expression on her face.

" _Ich liebe dich, mein Vögelchen,"_ he whispered.


	39. Chapter 39: The Reaper Whose Name is Ivy

**(A/N): Happy Friday, everyone! This time, we're checking in with the super-talent Abby Well and her Poison Ivy. It's amazing, as always.**

 **Thanks to our writers who reviewed this latest and other chapters (we seriously love those marathons) and to Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being THE BEST EVER and rocking our review section so hard. (We have to agree: we love Kate and Kurt finally getting a little happiness too!)**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirty-Nine - The Reaper Whose Name Is Ivy**

 **Pamela Isley, formerly of District Eleven**

 **Somewhere over the southern reaches of Seven**

 **Written by Abby Well**

* * *

" _If someone puts their hands on you, make sure they never put their hands on anybody else again."_ — _Malcolm X_

* * *

Here was a strange turn of events: Ivy was flying.

There were no windows in the back of the plane, where she was sitting, so she had no idea how much time had passed since they'd taken off or how far they'd traveled. Up in the cockpit, Wade Wilson, a new entry into the top five list of strangest people she'd ever met, was piloting the plane as if he'd been doing it all his life. Maybe he had — she wouldn't know any better. She didn't know anything about him, except that he'd been One's male tribute in last year's Games, but Harley had vouched for him, and for the moment, that was enough.

 _Harley._

She was here, alive. The sound of her giggling was coming from the cockpit, where she sat with Wade. That was, perhaps, the strangest thing of all.

Then again, they were currently on their way to kill the Joker and rescue some other surviving tributes, a resurrected Dick Grayson among them. It was all a bit… familiar. Uncomfortably so. Ivy was trying not to think about the two young women that would probably try and kill her as soon as look at her, not when she had the Joker to worry about. Tangling with them in any way would only distract her from her goal of ending him.

She rose to her feet and began to pace the floor. The metal was cold, but she didn't hate it like she had hated the white room at SHIELD. She wasn't all alone with her thoughts here; if she wanted, she could listen to Harley, and that could pull her out of even the blackest hole. The sound of her voice made the unfamiliar feel so much more welcoming.

Laughter erupted from the cockpit, and Ivy couldn't help but smile at the sound. When she'd seen Harley back in the SHIELD compound, for just a moment, all thoughts of vengeance and murder had left her mind and had been replaced with sheer _joy_. She didn't think she'd ever been so happy, not even when she thought she'd been in love in the past. Was this what it was supposed to feel like? Even though they were flying into danger? How could she feel so elated, so light and unfettered, when they were heading into what was almost certainly a trap to face a devil she'd thought was dead?

She heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Pausing in her pacing and glancing up, she saw Harley in the cockpit doorway, leaning insouciantly against the frame with a huge grin on her face, one leg bent so her foot was against the wall. So many emotions fought for supremacy at that moment until, eventually, happiness rose to the top, and Ivy couldn't help but smile back, so wide it felt like her face might split open like a ripe fruit. "Hi," she whispered, suddenly unable to think of a single thing she could say beyond that.

"Heya, Red." Harley wiggled her fingers playfully. "You doin' okay?"

"Mostly." Ivy shrugged, suddenly feeling absurdly shy. "I think I'm still adjusting to some things. I mean, you're..." She gestured vaguely towards Harley. She couldn't work out how to put everything she was feeling into words. There was happiness — of course there was — and love that burned fierce inside, but there was still so much anger and confusion. And buried underneath it all was that deep-seated fear that as soon as she'd gotten Harley back, she'd lose her to that clown all over again…

"Hey." Harley was in front of her now — she hadn't even noticed her approaching. "Red, where'd you go, huh? I'm right here."

"I know, I know," Ivy murmured. She reached up to smooth back a few flyaway strands of blonde hair that brushed Harley's forehead, but her hand stopped inches away as a horrible thought struck her tender mind.

What if she touched her and it turned out she wasn't really there? What if her mind was playing tricks on her, showing her what she wanted to see? The wounds in her heart were still aching and raw, and while _most_ of her knew that she was being ridiculous, if it turned out that Harley's reappearance was all some fanciful creation of her own mind, she didn't know if she'd be able to bear it.

Harley was staring at her, her blue eyes huge and worried and trusting. "Red?"

"I can't… I just…" Ivy screwed her eyes shut and turned away. "I need a minute." She clenched her fists and swallowed hard, trying to organize her thoughts. What was she _doing_? Why, after _everything_ , was she still second-guessing herself? She'd felt so sure out there in the forest, one with the green, and when she'd spotted Jack in the darkness, every fiber of her being had known what needed to be done… But now, she could feel the tiny tendrils of doubt creeping in, pushing their way up through the layers of her mind like weeds that had never quite died.

Two arms wrapped around her from behind, two hands clasped in front of her, and Harley rested her chin on Ivy's shoulder. She felt a tiny peck of a kiss on her cheek. "Sorry y'ain't had much time to take it all in," Harley said softly. Her breath tickled the bare skin of Ivy's neck. "Too much craziness goin' on. I betcha got questions, don'tcha? You wanna talk?" She gripped Ivy's shoulders and spun her back around, then beamed. "C'mon, sugar. Ask me anythin'!"

Tentatively, Ivy placed her hands on Harley's waist. She didn't disappear in a puff of smoke and laughter, so that was something. "Do you remember dying?"

"Kinda?" Harley's mouth scrunched into a pout as she thought. "I mean, it hurt a _helluva_ lot, but then it was all dark, an' then I woke up an' friggin' _Tony Stark_ was there, so that was pretty nice."

"Who?" Ivy frowned.

"Oh!" Harley's eyes popped wide. "They brought back loadsa tributes, SHIELD an' Hydra, I guess. Like me, an' Wade, an' Nightwing, an' Petey…"

"Your… spider?"

Harley giggled. "Nah, the Petey I'm talkin' about was a cutie-pie from the Games last year. Definitely on my list. _Hubba hubba._ "

Ivy held up her hands. "I don't understand, Harley. Who are Hydra? I thought SHIELD was leading the revolution?"

"Oh, sure, they are, but Hydra's like a big ol' secret organization that's _in_ SHIELD. Hidin' in plain sight an' all that. They're pretty weird. They got that whole mythical-beast-with-many-heads thing goin' on, but their logo's some kinda death-metal octopus." Harley shrugged. "To each their own, I guess. At least they gotta theme goin'."

Stepping away, Ivy began to pace the floor of the plane again as she spoke her thoughts aloud to try and make some sense of it all. "So SHIELD is a government organization rebelling against the Capitol, Hydra is another organization hidden _within_ SHIELD that's trying to turn it against itself, and both of them have been reviving past tributes to fight their battles?"

After a moment, Harley nodded. "Yeah, you got it."

"That's ludicrous." Ivy stopped in her tracks and turned to face Harley, her red hair swishing around her shoulders. A deep scowl marred her features — but her anger wasn't directed at Harley at all. "Of course, I'm glad you're back. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how glad I really am." She laughed suddenly, a single chuckle bursting from her lips as a momentary smile of disbelief flickered over her face before the quiet rage returned. "But it's so _wrong_. Everything about it is wrong! Bad enough that they were already picking and choosing who gets to die in the Games, but now they're deciding who they want to fight for them, dragging you back to life? And not only that, but someone decided that bringing back _Jack_ was a good idea? I _am_ going to kill him, but what if they just rev-"

Harley stepped forward and kissed her before she could say another word, and Ivy lapsed into shocked silence. When they broke apart a few seconds later, she could feel her lips tingling.

"Sorry, Red, I shoulda asked first, but you were kinda freakin' out, an' you gotta listen ta me before we land." Harley grinned a little apologetically. "Y'ain't gotta worry about undead tributes no more; Mistah Big Director Logan made it all stop. So ya got me back, and I ain't goin' nowhere." She dropped another kiss on the tip of Ivy's nose. "You're totally right about Jack, though. Whoever brought him back in Hydra was a certified nutcase, an' that's comin' from me."

"And now we have to end him." Ivy sat down heavily on the nearest seat. "I don't give a damn who brought back who or what SHIELD and Hydra want to do with the world. Whatever happens, he has to die and stay dead. I'm not having him hurt _anyone_ again." She was staring at the wall of the plane, her gaze focused on a grinning white face that only she could see, but she reached her hand out blindly and was rewarded when Harley's fingers interlaced with hers.

Beside her, Harley dropped onto the seat and crossed her legs neatly. "So, what's the plan?"

"First off, you're not going anywhere near him."

"What if I wanna be the one ta stick 'im an' make 'im squeal?" On the surface, Harley's tone was playful, but her eyes were hard, and her words had the edge of a challenge.

Ivy squeezed her hand. "You could, but there are hostages to rescue. You and Wade should do that, especially since most of them still want to kill me. I mean, they won't try if they know what's good for them, but it would be easier to get them out if I'm not around. I'm not doing this for them, anyway." Her green eyes grew dark with malice.

"Oh, sure." Harley looked thoughtful. "But… um… you remember what happened last time." She sounded a little nervous.

"Which is why I'll be drawing him away. He missed the chance to kill me in the arena. I know he'll want to try again."

"What if he hurts you?"

"He won't," Ivy said with absolute conviction. "He thinks he can just press a few of my buttons and break me, but he doesn't know me. He's just another little boy playing dress-up, pretending to be something powerful. He can dress the part and act like the ringleader all he likes, but someone brought him back, and they must have had a reason, which means someone is telling him what to do. He's answering to another person, and we both know he doesn't like that."

"Well, ya gotta stay talkin' when yer with 'im, so we know you're okay," Harley said brightly, standing up and starting to rummage through a nearby box of supplies. She straightened up, holding a small, gray earpiece in each hand. "Here, put this on."

As Ivy was arranging her hair so it hid the earpiece, a speaker set into the wall above their heads crackled to life. "Attention passengers: this is your captain speaking. Hel- _lo,_ lovely ladies."

"Hi, Wade!" Harley called out, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Hi, sweetness," came the reply, though for that, he'd turned away from the microphone and had peeked at them from the cockpit, waving with the tips of his fingers. Wade was smiling like a fool at the two of them before he turned back around. He cleared his throat and went back to the microphone. "We're about to begin our descent. So, seatbelts on, tray tables up, prepare to unleash hell, and make sure to stay seated until the vehicle has come to a full and complete stop. Thank you for flying with Wilson Airways!"

The plane began to slowly circle in a downward spiral. Ivy felt the same drop in her stomach as the last time she'd been conscious in a plane, and she tried to focus on other things to stop herself from feeling sick; there were a lot of things to think of, after all — namely the four people she was about to see again.

Helena would still want to kill her. Ivy hadn't seen her back at the compound, unlike when Kory had snuck into her room, but she didn't think the Seven girl would have forgotten what she'd done to her brother.

She honestly couldn't say how Dick would react to seeing her — would he be angry, too, or would he try and justify her actions because of what had happened to Harley during their rescue attempt? That was a strange thought.

And then, of course, there was Kory. Fierce, vengeful Kory, with that hair of fire that was so similar to her own. She could still remember how it had felt to have her fingers wrapped around her throat, that curtain of red hair shielding them from the rest of the world...

 _Red._

Ivy blinked as a wisp of a plan began to take shape in her mind. "Harley," she murmured carefully, "I have an idea. Help me get dressed."

* * *

They had reached the Capitol. It felt even more like a whole other world, after everything Ivy had been through since the last time she'd been there. So many hard, glittering surfaces, so much of the artificial. The only green here was paint and money.

She reached up and quietly adjusted the collar of the SHIELD-issue fatigues she was wearing. She absolutely hated the feeling of the fabric against her skin, but both she and Harley had agreed that her previous outfit, as it were, had been a little too conspicuous. She was getting through by repeatedly reminding herself that the sooner this was all over, the sooner she could return to how she should be.

Just in front of her, Wade was leading the way, with Harley close behind. For once, neither of them was talking more than was needed, and the three of them had managed to make it to this building without being interrupted. Whether anyone had actually _seen_ them was a different matter, but there were no alarms or people chasing them, so they were taking advantage of that while they could and had now arrived at the back door to the lair of Ophelia Sarkissian.

"You sure this is the place? It's creepy," Harley whispered, gazing up at the building. It was surprisingly understated for the Capitol, styled more toward elegance than opulence, but Harley was right; there was a discomforting air about it, as if the nastiness of what was inside had seeped into the foundations and tainted the entire construction.

"Oh, yeah," Wade replied. He was crouched down, digging into the lock on the door with a pocket knife. "Viper most likely wants to sink her itty-bitty fangs into our favorite Wolverine, but she won't leave her little house, so she sends out your ex—" He glanced up at Harley and winked. "—no hard feelings, babe — to round up the Sevens and make some tasty bait. Voila!" There was a thunk and a clatter as the door opened, and the busted lock fell to the ground. "I love the little guy, but Logan'll _definitely_ wanna come play hero and rescue them, so we have to get in there and do it first before SHIELD gets new director whiplash." He straightened up and stretched his arms above his head, cracking his neck from side to side. "Oof. My knees aren't what they used to be."

"Ya whole body ain't what it used to be, sweetcheeks, but I like it anyway." Harley blew them a kiss, then darted inside the door before either Wade or Ivy could stop her.

The two of them shared a look. "After you." Wade flashed Ivy a wicked grin, then took the edge of the door and pulled it wide, gesturing for her to go through with an extravagant flourish.

She murmured her thanks as she passed through into the dark and clicked on the flashlight that had been clipped to her fatigues. Harley was standing at the top of a staircase, peering around with the aid of her own flashlight. "Do you see anything?" Ivy asked as she approached her.

"Not a lot, Red. I think this has gotta go somewhere interestin', though." She pointed the beam of her flashlight down the stairs, then glanced at Ivy carefully. "You still sure about this?"

"I am." Ivy's mouth was set in a grim line. "We need to keep the focus on me. I'll go in first and speak to them — they'll need a lot of convincing."

"What if he's already there?" Wade piped up, sticking his head between them and looking down the stairs. "I mean, I don't hear the nefarious laughter and Nosferatu creeping walk, but he could be skulking down there ready to pounce on you."

He sounded genuinely concerned, and Ivy stared at him incredulously. _Why does he care what happens to me?_ "I can handle him," she said. "You two follow me down, and if he _is_ there, you get her out, Wade. I don't care how desperately the others need you; you keep her away from him until I'm done. Got it?"

"Roger that." He saluted. "You know, we should hang out after this. I'd love to pick your murderous little brain, really get to grips with the femme fatale thing. You like coffee?"

Ivy ignored him and started descending the staircase, pausing every so often to listen or adjust her footing so her steps didn't make too much noise. The stairs seemed to go on forever, drawing them deeper and deeper into the dark, but she didn't feel at all uncomfortable being underground. At the bottom, she stopped and waited. There wasn't a lot to go on, no signs pointing helpfully to prison cells or a secret lair, but she could feel a slight breeze coming from the hallway on her left, so she followed her instincts.

The hunch paid off soon enough; there was another door ahead, though it too was locked. "Wade," she called softly over her shoulder, "would you mind?"

"Sure thing, flower child. Just lemme scooch on by here…" He ducked past and quickly set to work. Apparently, it was easier this time around, as only a couple of minutes later, the door was open and waiting for her. "All yours," Wade said in an exaggerated whisper.

"Wait, Red!" Harley suddenly grabbed her shoulders and kissed her again, soft and sweet and slightly trembling. "For luck. Don't go dyin' on me. We can't bring you back, and I don't wanna pile o' mulch to remember you by."

"Thank you, Harley. Just let him come for me first. He'll have to move past you to do it, but you can't let him know you're here." Ivy cupped her hand around the back of Harley's head and pressed their foreheads together for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She felt a sudden tug somewhere in the area of her heart, like her body was telling her not to let Harley leave her sight again… but this was something she had to do. "Now, _hide_ , both of you. Wade, keep her safe." She pushed the two of them away into the shadows, then stepped through the door.

It was cold — a cold, dark prison block, with two rows of barred cells facing each other. There were strip lights hanging overhead, but she didn't turn them on. It smelled...decidedly _not_ musty in there, but more of cleaning products and polish and stale food, as if these tiny rooms saw fairly regular use. Looking around, Ivy couldn't see anyone in the cells nearest the door, so she kept moving.

"Who's there?" croaked a familiar voice suddenly. "If that's you, Viper, I hope—"

"Hello, Helena." Ivy followed the sound of the Seven girl's voice and found her in the third cell on the right, kneeling on the ground with her hands bound behind her back. She winced when the light of Ivy's flashlight skimmed across her eyes.

" _You_?" A conflicted combination of rage and resignation crossed Helena's face. "God, I'd better be hallucinating. Or did Viper recruit you as well?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Nobody's recruited me. SHIELD tried — and failed. I'm here because I want to be." Ivy crouched down to take in the state of Helena. "You look rough. Who else is here?"

"I'm not buying the 'nice' act." Helena glared at her. "But if you're trying, why don't you come in here and cut me loose? I'd be happy to put you out of my misery."

"Tempting as that sounds," Ivy said sardonically, "I'm not actually here for _you_." She stood up and looked further down the corridor between the cell blocks, flashing her light from side to side. "Kory? Dick? Sinthea?"

A soft groan came from the cell opposite Helena's, and Kory sat up with some difficulty. Her cheeks were streaked with tears, and her eyes were bleary until she realized who was shining a light into her cell. Then, her beautiful face twisted into a scowl, and she bared her teeth. "Witch!" she hissed, shifting forward on her knees so she could lean against the bars. "Of course, Jack is not enough. You have been brought in to torture us, to hurt us all over again—"

"Oh, shut up, Kory." Ivy crossed the room and walked straight past her. "I'm not here for you either. Is your boyfriend around?"

Kory slowly rose to her feet with a snarl on her lips. "You will _not_ put one finger on him—"

Ivy stopped and turned, stalking right up to the door of Kory's cell and standing as close as she could to Kory's face. "Stop making assumptions, Princess, before you say the wrong thing and you can't take it back," she growled. "Despite what you seem to think, my world does not revolve around hurting you. I couldn't care less if you died in this cell, but someone I do care about wants to get you all out of here. I came along for the ride, and I need you to listen to me now. You still want to kill me? Do it _after this._ "

Kory stared back at her, shocked into silence, and for a moment, Ivy wondered what had happened to make her back down so quickly without a fight. It wasn't like her at all. "Why… why have you come?" she whispered at last.

"I'm going to kill the Joker," Ivy answered matter-of-factly, and Kory's mouth dropped open. "Where's Dick?"

"Here." A breathless voice reached her ears, coming from a cell at the far end of the room. Ivy lifted her flashlight and shone it toward the sound, and she could just make out the top of his head where he was resting it against the bars. "We have to stop meeting like this." He sounded a little fuzzy, as if his tongue was numb.

"Not the time for jokes." Ivy walked away from Kory again, searching for the last of the captives. "Sinthea?"

She found the final prisoner three cells along from Helena. Sinthea Schmidt was standing like a soldier at ease, her hands bound behind her and her expression more curious than anything. "Who are you?" she asked in a low voice that betrayed a gently simmering rage. Ivy got the impression of a caged lioness, waiting to pounce the second the door was open.

"She's the bitch who killed my brother," Helena called out helpfully.

Dick let out an exhausted rasp of a laugh. "An insult to female dogs everywhere, Hel."

"True."

"Ivy," she said, ignoring the Waynes entirely.

"Sinthea Schmidt. _Sin_ to you."

"We can get to know each other later." Ivy surveyed the door of the cell. The lock didn't look too difficult; Wade could probably manage it quickly enough. "The Joker. Jack Hamill. Has he been down here?"

"He's gone for now, but he'll be back soon enough. Viper says Grayson's off limits, but he's free to play with any of _us_." Sin looked disgusted at the very thought. "I think he'll start with Kory first. If he can't touch Grayson, that's the next best thing."

"That makes sense," Ivy agreed, "as much as anything can when he's involved. Thanks." Quietly, she made her way back toward the door she'd come through, stopping again at Kory's cell. "Listen to me," she urged when Kory opened her mouth. "Go to the back of your cell and hide. Don't make a sound." When Kory didn't move, she reached through the bars and gave her a push. " _Go_."

"Do not touch me," Kory snarled back, but she managed to stand up and slowly walked backward into the darkest corner of her cell, never taking her gaze off Ivy's face.

"Helena," Ivy called over her shoulder.

"What?"

"Wait for that monster to come back. When he does, I'm Kory."

"The _hell_ are you talking about." Helena's voice was flat.

"I'm _Kory_." Ivy switched off her flashlight and turned around to emphasise her point. In the shadows, with her fatigues and cloud of curly hair, it was extremely difficult to tell the difference. "I'm the last person he'll be expecting to turn up, but if Kory is somehow out of her cell, he'll come after her."

Helena didn't respond, but Ivy didn't have any more time to push for an answer. As if on cue, a low chuckle came echoing down the hall outside the door. Ivy touched the earpiece hidden under her hair and tried to keep her voice steady. "He's coming, Harley. Everyone's here in the cells; once he's done, you two get them out."

There was a pause before Harley carefully whispered her reply. "Sure thing, Red. Love ya. Don't die on me, 'kay?"

Ivy bit her lip, smiling a little in spite of everything. "I'll try. Love you, too." She took a deep breath and crouched slightly, trying to look as if she'd just escaped from a prison cell and was wondering where to go next. She pulled a small blade from her belt, palmed it, then linked her hands behind her back to give the illusion that she was tied up — and waited.

Soon, the air was filled with the soft-shoe shuffle routine of the Joker entering the room as if he were making his vaudeville debut. "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and — ooh, what's this?"

"Kory!" Helena's hoarse voice ripped through the air, screaming at her. "He's here! _Run_!"

The Joker was approaching, and it took every ounce of self-restraint Ivy had not to attack him then and there; she stayed frozen, as if in fear, caught in a trap and unable to escape. She kept her eyes trained down, on the thin beam of light that was illuminating the floor as he walked toward her.

"Kooo-ryyy…" he purred gleefully. "You know, I was just thinking about you…" He was right behind her now, placing the fingers of his right hand on her shoulder one by one so it felt like a great, fat spider creeping just out of sight. It made her skin crawl. She couldn't see him, but she could _feel_ him, and that was much worse. "How did you get out of your cage, little bird? Did you fly?"

Ivy didn't make a sound, wondering just how long she could keep this going while he was unable to see the truth through his veil of arrogance and insanity. It felt like everyone else in the room was holding their breath.

Silently, she shifted the knife so its blade protruded up between her fingers and took a breath to prepare for her attack.

"It's impressive, I have to say." He was still talking. "And wouldn't you know, I was coming to find you anyway? It's all worked out wonderfully, don't you—"

He was cut off when Ivy spun, dropping the charade of being restrained as she drove the knife up and into his stomach as hard as she could. His fingers clutched over the wound, and he staggered backward, wheezing, grasping at where the blade was sticking out of him. "Wow! What's gotten into _you_?" He didn't sound like he was in pain at all, more exhilarated than anything.

"A few things. Most of which you'd never understand."

As soon as he heard her voice, the Joker's whole demeanor changed; he sank down like a predator waiting to pounce, and a tiny giggle of glee escaped from between his bared teeth. "Oh, this just. Got. _Interesting_! Pammy, darling, I never thought I'd see you again! You're looking good. SHIELD-chic suits you." He shone his flashlight beam up and down her body.

"Shut up. This ends now," Ivy hissed. "You're never hurting anyone again — not Kory, not me, and especially not Harley. You're done."

"Re-e-eally? And how are you going to do that, sweetie? No poison kisses in here, not from you." He spun the flashlight around so his grinning face was illuminated from below, casting strange shadows that distorted his features. "Viper is going to _love_ having you here. You should compare notes; you really do have a lot in common."

"Enough!" _I've been waiting for this. This is for me, for Harley, for anyone he's ever hurt. Something so twisted does not belong._ She ran at him, heading for the light, quickly enough to catch him off-guard at first but not so quick that she was able to dodge when he swung the knife toward her. There was a brief and searing pain in her arm as the blade cut through her fatigues and sliced into her flesh, but she ignored it, lunging for him instead. She wasn't thinking, just feeling, moving on instinct as the flashlight fell to the floor between them and they began to dance in the shadows.

He had a knife, the speed of a practiced killer, and no sense of self-preservation; she had love, rage, and vengeance fueling her every move.

Her fist connected with his jaw first, while she grabbed his wrist with her other hand and dug her nails into his skin, but he switched his grip and spun her against his body so her own arm was wrapped around her neck. The knife came around again and landed in her shoulder, deep in the flesh. She screamed, then gritted her teeth and jerked her elbow back into where the knife had already stabbed him to send him reeling. As they broke apart, she took a few steps away, clutching her bleeding shoulder, and felt the first tiny trickle of fear down her spine.

Had she made a mistake?

They circled each other. "I wonder where she'll put you," he said softly, still grinning. His shifting shadow on the walls around them made him seem like a monstrous creature, all elongated insect limbs and fingers reaching for her. "It'd be marvellous for us to get reacquainted down here, but you never know; she might take a _shine_ to what you have to offer. Of course, it wouldn't be the first time that's happened, would it?"

Ivy stopped moving and glared at him. "Can we not do the monologuing? I've never met anyone who loves the sound of their own voice as much as you." She crouched, ready to spring for him again. Pain was starting to blossom from the wound and spread down her arm, but the adrenaline coursing through her body was helping to keep it at bay. She just wanted this to be over.

"Did you come alone?" he mused, ignoring her words. "I doubt it. Somehow, I don't think you know how to pilot a plane, which means somebody brought you here. Where are they, Pamela?" He twirled on the spot, arms wide. "Hellooooo? Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

"There's nobody else here, Jack. I know you always hope for a sellout show, but not this time."

The Joker cocked his head to one side. "Fine by me. I get to see my audience's reaction up close and personal — savor _all_ the little emotions."

Suddenly, he was moving, coming for her, and she wasn't quick enough; he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled, making her lose her balance so her feet kicked uselessly against the floor as he started to drag her along. She shrieked and writhed in his grasp, ignoring the sharp pain in her scalp, because only one thing was on her mind now.

 _Don't let him take you. Fight him. Fight him!_

She'd been so sure that she'd be able to catch him off-guard and end it quickly — of course he was going to fight her, play with her. He was so much more experienced with killing than she was. She'd gotten so carried away with thoughts of vengeance that she hadn't considered the idea of him winning… No wonder Harley had kept asking if she was sure about this...

"Reeeeeeeeddd!"

Ivy heard footsteps pounding toward them; all at once, the lights came on, Ivy was free, the Joker fell to the ground with a shout of pain and a sickening crunch, and Harley was on top of him, scratching, clawing, punching at every part of him she could reach. "Get. Offa. Her. You. Creep!"

"You okay, ma'am?" Wade was there too, taking Ivy by the arm and helping her to her feet. As soon as she was upright, he let go, somehow knowing that she still wasn't comfortable with him touching her.

She turned away from him, blinking in the sudden light and clamping a hand over her injured shoulder again. "Harley, stop. _Harley!_ "

"Red!" Harley leaped to her feet and bounded over, hugging Ivy fiercely. "You didn't… you said… I thought he was gonna…"

"I'm sorry." Ivy returned the embrace and pressed her lips to Harley's forehead. Her heartbeat was thrumming loudly in her ears. "I thought I could do it — I wanted to so much — I just didn't think. I'm sorry."

"Oh, blah blah blah," the Joker drawled. He was lying where Harley had left him, battered and bruised and bleeding, one of his legs sticking out at a strange angle, but there was still a smile painted across his face. "Harley, darling, when were you going to tell me you were here? I missed you, baby."

"Screw you, clown," Harley snapped, wrapping her arm possessively around Ivy's waist. On her other side, Wade did the same to her, so the three of them formed a united front. "She's right; you're done."

"And are you going to do the honors, sweetheart?" He coughed horribly, blood spurting from between his lips and staining them scarlet.

Harley shook her head. "Nah. Red called dibs." She nudged Ivy forward. "G'head, honey."

"Wait." Wade held out his hand in front of them. "Spotlight's on you. If you're gonna do this, you're gonna do it right." He reached behind his back and pulled one of the katanas he carried from its sheath, presenting it to Ivy with a bow. "Now go get him, tigerlily, but I want that back when you're finished." He wagged a finger at her. "Just call out if you want to tap out, and ol' Wade'll dive in to help."

Ivy took the katana and swished it back and forth a couple of times, getting used to the feel of it in her hand. She'd never used a sword before, but she did really need a weapon to do this properly. Wade had come through for her again, trusted her enough to finish the job, and given her a weapon to do so. She glanced up and gave him a small smile. "Thank you."

"Can we get on with this, please?" the Joker called out, waving at the three of them. "Just go through the motions already. We both know you won't really do it, Pammy. You're just a little girl playing revenge. No follow through; that's your problem."

"And you," Ivy murmured as she walked toward him, her sword pointing at his throat, "are just another person in a very long line of people who think they can control me. You're not special. Jason couldn't do it. Sam Wilson couldn't do it. The Capitol couldn't do it. All the SHIELD horses and all the SHIELD men couldn't do it either." With each new name, she swung the sword first this way, then that, as if striking them off an invisible piece of paper. "SHIELD wanted to help me, but they had no idea what they were doing. Hydra actually ended up being the ones to give me the two things I wanted most." She was standing over him now, gazing down at his face. For all the adrenaline and fear she'd felt only a few moments before, she was now perfectly calm and composed as she raised the katana like the Sword of Damocles over the Joker's head. "Funny how things turn out."

 _He will die on the ground and be buried in the dirt. For Harley. For me._

The blade fell, the point plunging into the Joker's heart. He gasped in agony, raising his hands as if reaching for something to help him up, but nothing came. Another gush of blood dribbled out of his mouth.

"That's not funny," he choked out, scrabbling at thin air. "That's not funny at all…"

Finally, the smile faded.


	40. Chapter 40: Trouble in the Capitol

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're back with the super-talented Unlucky Alis to bring you some fierce redhead action ;)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have reviewed and have been such a great support for this story. Thanks also to our many reviewers: Pelirroja2012, TheRaspberryVigilante41, Slim Summers2002, Hudson, and Malfoy's Nimbus. We're seeing a few character requests, so just a reminder: the characters who are getting chapters really depend on which writers have the time for chapters. That's the nature of a multi-writer fic ;) We do love some Clintasha, though; we're loving seeing a lot of that love echoed! We're glad that with the most recent chapter, the character development is shining through, too. We can't say enough how PROUD we are of our writers. We're in AWE of the talent that we get to be part of.**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty- Trouble in the Capitol**

 **Viper's Lair in the Capitol**

 **Kory Anders, formerly of District Twelve**

 **Written by Unlucky Alis**

* * *

" _Enemies make better allies then frenemies"_ **-** _Adam Grant_

* * *

Kory was almost tired of being angry. _Almost_. Right now, the raging fire inside her was probably the only thing keeping her on her feet. Thankfully, there was plenty of fuel for her flames.

First, there was Viper. Kory had expected the worst when Viper sent them to their cells but had Dick stay behind. If Kory was being honest, she _still_ expected the worst. They all could hear it when Dick had been brought in and thrown into his own cell, but it was too dark for anyone to see into. Kory and Helena called to him, and it took him a long, agonizing while to reply. His voice was thick, slurred, but not pained — sometimes it hurt Kory so much to know what Dick sounded like when he was in pain. He had assured them — quietly, slowly, softly — that he wasn't injured.

That wasn't good enough for Kory. Dick may not have been bleeding, but Viper had still done _something_ to him, and that was a surefire way for anyone to land on Kory's revenge list.

Then there was Jack. Jack, alive. Jack, here. Jack, just as insane as ever. He might not have been the one to end Dick's life in the arena, but he could have been. There were so many ways it could have gone differently. Jack could have tortured Dick to death. If Ivy hadn't killed Dick, he might have succumbed to his injuries before Bruce arrived. Kory tried not to think about the ways it could have gone better, either. It didn't matter now. Either way, Jack was one of the few people Kory wouldn't have hesitated to kill, but Ivy had already taken care of that.

And that was Kory's biggest problem. Ivy was _here_ to _rescue_ them. Or Wade and Harley were, and Ivy was helping.

Ivy's fight with Jack had taken them out of Kory's line of sight, but she did her best to listen and caught the moment when help had arrived. She recognized Wade's voice, and there was only one person Kory could think of who called Ivy "Red".

Allies were good. Allies meant _help_. But Ivy wasn't an ally. She was an enemy at best, _the_ enemy at worst. Maybe that was a touch dramatic, considering Kory was currently locked underground in the middle of Hydra territory, and there was an actual war going on with much larger enemies. She blamed Dick and his knack for theatrics rubbing off on her.

It didn't change the facts, though. Kory wanted Ivy dead and as far away from Dick as possible. She also wanted to get out of this place, and like it or not — she definitely didn't like it — accepting Ivy's help was their only escape plan available. Kory may have been a proud person, but she wasn't proud enough to condemn herself, and the others, to Hydra's hands because of Ivy's involvement.

 _You still want to kill me? Do it after this._ That was what Ivy said, and Kory was all too glad to take her up on that offer. Survival now, revenge later.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, two pairs of feet cutting a steady beat while the third was more erratic. Kory approached the door of her cell just as Harley skipped into view. Blood was caked under nails and smeared across her hands, and she was grinning.

"Hiya, sugar!" Harley said as she peered into Helena's cell. "Did ya miss me?"

Kory remembered, belatedly, that Harley and Helena had been allies, although she didn't know for how long or if they had become friends in that time. With Harley, it was a little hard to tell. It hadn't taken Kory long to bond with her allies, even Jason, despite not knowing him long, but Harley seemed to randomly flit between taking her time and instantly attaching.

A deep aching swelled within her, and she bit her lip as she squeezed her eyes shut. There was a time and place for mourning, and now wasn't it.

"What are you doing here?" Helena asked, leaning forward.

"Bustin' ya out, of course." Harley took a step back, twisting so she could see both Kory and Helena. "But listen up. I don't care what yer beef is. I'm alive, Dickiebird's alive, an' if _anyone_ touches Red, we're gonna have problems. Got it?"

The smile never left Harley's lips as she spoke, but it was sharp. Coupled with the hard look in her eyes and the blood on her hands, Kory knew Harley wasn't bluffing.

Kory met Helena's gaze between the bars. Neither of them trusted Ivy, and they both wanted some form of revenge, but sometimes, present circumstances outweighed past grudges. If they turned on Ivy, then Harley would turn on them. Kory didn't know if Dick was in any state to fight, and she couldn't be sure who Sinthea and Wade would side with, although her gut was telling her they would be on Harley's side. The circumstances definitely wouldn't be in their favour. Kory could tolerate it — for now — but that didn't mean she had to like it.

She gave a curt nod while Helena said, "Got it."

"Alrighty then! Let's get you outta there, princess. Wade, honey?" With a bounce, Harley skipped backward.

Wade sauntered into view, swinging a bloody sword, although his clothes were clean. He stared at the lock to Kory's cell, then his sword, then the lock again. "I don't know how to pick this one, sugarlips. You think I could just stab it? Works in the movies."

Kory frowned, wrinkling her nose and scrunching her brow together. "What are you talking about?"

"Don't!" Sinthea shouted.

Kory's gaze snapped to Sinthea's cell down the hall. Kory could only just see Sinthea's arm sticking through the bars of her cell if she pressed up against her own.

"You don't know what kind of sensors these doors have. If you damage the locks, every Hydra agent in the building will come running," Sinthea said.

Wade's shoulders slumped as he lowered his sword, looking at the lock in sheer disappointment, as if it was the lock's fault he couldn't stab it open. "It's not your fault, Bea," Wade said — apparently to the sword.

"You got any better ideas?" Harley asked.

"Joker," Kory said. She grabbed her bars and nodded toward where Jack had fallen, down the hall. "He would have to open the cells to get to us; he must have some kind of key. And if someone _is_ monitoring the doors, then they're already expecting them to open."

Helena nodded in agreement. "It'll give us a head start, at least. If they haven't come after us already, they must not be watching too closely. We're lucky, but I don't want to test that luck."

"Well, aren't you just the smarty pants? Whoda thunk you was a total package — looks, brains…. An' a little nuts too," Harley rolled her eyes and popped her hip, one hand resting on her hip. Neither she nor Wade made a move to get the key from Joker, but Kory could hear the sound of shuffling from that direction anyway.

Ivy was getting the keycard, then.

Kory closed her eyes and listened to the rustling of fabric. There were a few soft mutters, a curse, and then the shuffling stopped. The sound of steady footsteps took its place. Her grip on the window bars tightened as Ivy drew closer. The footsteps stopped. Kory opened her eyes.

Ivy's shoulder was bleeding. Not enough to be concerned over — not that Kory would be concerned for _Ivy_ of all people — but enough that the wound was an obvious hindrance. Other than a few bruises and her dishevelled clothes, she was fine. She strode forward without sparing a glance in either Kory or Helena's direction, stopping in front of Harley. Their hands touched, fingers loosely twined. There was a strange look in Ivy's eyes, something soft.

It made Kory uncomfortable. She didn't want to see that kind of look on Ivy. Ivy was supposed to be all poisonous stares and manipulative words. Kory didn't want to look at her face and see an expression she might find in Dick's when they're together.

Ivy and Harley stood like that for a moment, with Wade crooning in the background, hands cupped over his mouth, until Helena kicked the door of her cell and said, "Anytime now."

Ivy spared her a sharp glare, squeezed Harley's hand, and walked down the hall to Sinthea's cell, where she swiped the card through the lock. There was a beep, a click, and thunk. All it took was a nudge for Ivy to push it open.

Leaning forward against her own door, Kory watched as Sinthea stepped into the hall, cracking her neck. Wade undid the restraints on her hands, and she hissed in pain, cradling her injured hand, but managed to say, "Thanks. Nice work with Jack; it didn't sound good for a moment there."

"It was fine," Ivy said. "I had backup."

Sinthea shrugged and smirked, walking over to join Harley and Wade while Kory strained to keep her eye on Ivy.

She walked out of Kory's line of sight. Down the hall. Towards Dick.

"Don't touch him!" she said.

"Hey! Keep yer shirt on!" Harley leaned forward, hands on her hips, head tilted to the side. "You don't talk to Red like that. We could leave ya here if we wanted."

"Not without leaving all of us behind."

Harley poked Kory's nose, making her flinch back. "I didn't say we _would_ , just that we _could_."

Before Kory could respond, she heard the beep-click-thunk of another door opening, and her gaze snapped in Ivy and Dick's direction. She heard a groan, a muttered, "Hold still," from Ivy, and then shuffling steps. Kory's fists clenched when they walked into view.

Dick was leaning on Ivy, his footsteps uneven as he tried not to stumble. His shirt was ruffled, buttons undone, and there were lipstick stains on his face.

"I said don't touch him!" Kory hissed, pressing herself against the door. She knew she would be free in just a few moments, but she wanted nothing more than to melt right through the door and snatch Dick away from Ivy's arms. Despite what Ivy said, Kory could not believe that Dick would be safe as long as Ivy was around. She knew just how well some grudges could linger, festering in the darkest parts of your mind, digging their claws in so dip that tearing them away would take a piece of you with it.

She never wanted to compare herself to Ivy, but if there was one thing she could see them sharing, it would be a penchant for grudges.

"I could drop him if you'd like," Ivy snapped.

"Ladies, ladies! We have places to be, people to kill, names to kick, ass to take. Is this really the time?" Wade stepped forward, waving his hands and looking between Ivy and Kory.

"The sooner we get out of here, the better," Sinthea added.

"Kory."

Kory dragged her gaze away from Dick, focusing on Helena instead.

Helena held Kory's gaze for a second before slowly shaking her head. "We need to get back to SHIELD, and—" She glanced at Ivy and scowled. "—we need her help to do it."

She understood, and she knew Helena was being much more level-headed than Kory was. They had agreed not to start anything with Ivy — for now — and Kory was already on her way to breaking their unspoken agreement.

Kory couldn't lose her head now. Helena, Sin, all of them were right. They needed to escape, not to fight each other. Even if that meant relying on Ivy.

"Open the doors," Kory said.

Ivy passed the keycard to Harley, who skipped over to Helena's cell and swiped it through the lock. When the door slid open, Harley squealed and dove inside, wrapping her arms around Helena's neck.

"Fancy seein' you here, huh?" she giggled.

"It's good to see you too." Once she was released, Helena moved over to take Dick from Ivy, and Harley opened Kory's cell. Kory slipped through the opening as soon as it was wide enough and quickly joined Helena by Dick's side. He didn't look injured, no worse than when she had last seen him at least, but his eyes were glassy.

He was in better shape than Kory expected, even with his slurred reassurances from before, but that didn't mean she was happy with it. Kory glanced at Ivy and shifted so that she was standing between her and Dick.

"You can fret over your boyfriend later; you're the ones who said we were on a time limit," Ivy said. She started down the hall, toward Jack's corpse and the stairwell, and everyone moved to follow.

"Wait." Kory stopped.

"Oh, come on; what now?" Harley whined, popping her hip.

"Tim. We need to get Tim out of here," Kory said.

Dick's eyes widened, and he nodded. "We can't leave him behind; we owe it to Jason."

"Jason's _twelve-year-old_ brother," Helena told Harley, giving her a look that illustrated how serious the situation was with Tim. "He's been trapped here since around the time we were all Reaped."

"You're the only ones here," Ivy said.

"Then he's on another floor. We aren't leaving without him."

Kory and Ivy glared at each other, trying to stare each other down, seeing who would give first. Harley made the decision for them.

"Come on, Red, we can't leave a _kid_ here. Besides, it could be fun. We could punch some more jerks! That always cheers me up," she said. She wrapped an arm around Ivy's shoulders, jumping up and down as she did so.

"We need to hurry," Ivy said.

"We're not asking for your permission," Kory shot back.

"Well maybe you should, princess," Harley replied. "We came here onna counta Ivy spottin' my rotten ol' Puddin' creepin' after ya. We ain't here cause anyone _asked_ , so we don't gotta stay an' take your crap!"

They headed toward the stairs as a group, with Harley and Wade in the lead, chatting excitedly. Ivy was just a step behind them, while Helen, Dick, and Kory took up the rear. Sinthea stood between them all.

"Ivy's right, though; we can't waste any more time. Our luck won't last forever," Helena said.

"We will just have to be prepared." Kory's fingers ghosted down Dick's arm until she found his hand, squeezing it tightly. Dick squeezed back, standing up a little taller.

"This was the first floor we found when we arrived," Ivy said as she pushed open the door to the stairwell. "If this Tim is here, he's on a lower level."

They headed down to the next level. Harley tested the door and squealed happily when it opened without resistance. She didn't even need to use the key. They spread out and swept the cells, but Tim wasn't in any of them.

They went further down. One floor, two. Kory and Helena searched the cells with fervor; Dick joined them more actively as he regained his wits. His eyes still looked a little glassy, but he didn't need to lean on anyone.

He glanced into the last cell and shook his head. "Next floor," he said.

"We're going too deep," Sinthea said. She had been helping them look, but Kory could see she wasn't as invested in the cause. Every time they stepped into the stairwell, she would glance up, the way they _should_ have been going. She wasn't the only one.

"That's it. The kid's not here, and we need to _leave_ ," Ivy said.

"We're not giving up." Kory stepped in front of the stairs so no one could go up.

"I'm not dying for a lost cause, and I do _not_ want to be here when those alarms go off."

"She has a point," Sinthea said. "I know you two have some kind of vengeance quest for Jason, but be _realistic_."

"Play _nice_ , Miss Sinthea," Wade added with a cat's hiss — but he went largely ignored.

"Move," Ivy said, stepping forward.

"No."

"I'm not dying for you."

Kory was seething. She was exhausted, worried, and angry, and she had already been amicable with Ivy for three floors. Apparently, that was her limit. "Wonderful, but you may die _by_ me."

She lunged before anyone could react, striking Ivy in the gut and sending them both sprawling. Kory's fingers were just closing around Ivy's throat, but there were hands grabbing at her shoulders, dragging her back.

"Woah! Get offa her!" Harley howled, sharp nails digging into Kory's collarbone.

Helena grabbed Harley's wrist and tore her hand away while Dick pulled Kory toward him. He grabbed her arms, holding her tightly.

"Kory, hey, Kory, you need to calm down," he said. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his face into her hair. "I know people hate it when anyone says that, but we can't be fighting. Not right here, not right now."

His voice was soft, hot breath on her ear, but Kory couldn't relax. They were in a terrible place. Viper was there, Ivy was there, Tim was somewhere and they couldn't find him. Jason was dead, Kory still had no idea what Viper actually did to Dick, and there was nothing she could do to vent her anger. No sister to punch, no soldiers to take them, just Helena, Dick, and a ragtag group of maybe-allies. Maybe not even that after the little stunt she just pulled.

"We need to find Tim," Kory said.

Dick's hug was pinning her arms between them. It wouldn't take much effort for her to shimmy free, but instead, she spread her fingers, feeling Dick's heartbeat beneath her hands. She didn't relax, but she felt her breathing slow.

"Are you done freaking out?" Sinthea asked. "Because it's time for us to—"

She was cut off by a blaring shriek that made them all flinch. The stairwell, previously dark, suddenly lit up with red flashing lights. The alarm wailed in their ears, trying its best to drown out any other noise. They were finally out of luck.

"I'm sorry; did you say somethin'?" Harley asked with a wide grin, one hand behind her ear as she leaned toward Sinthea, wild-eyed.

"It's time to go!" Sinthea shouted.

"It's just getting interesting!" Wade shouted back. "And I'm not leaving a _kid!"_

Kory could barely hear them over the alarm.

Ivy and Sinthea moved to go up the stairs while Kory, Dick, Wade, and Helena hung back. Harley glanced between them both.

"We're getting Tim!" Dick said.

Wade leaned forward and clapped his hands on Dick's shoulder. The position was a little strange, since Kory was caught between them. She turned halfway, pressing her shoulder against Dick, and glanced at Wade.

"We'll clear the way, and I won't let them take off until you get out too," Wade said.

"You better not leave without us," Kory said.

"Wouldn't dream of it, princess!" Wade's grin was sharp and wicked. Kory winked in return, and he scampered off after Ivy and Sin, holding hands with Harley.

The remaining three wasted no time. They threw themselves down the stairs to the next level. They burst through the door, caution thrown to the wind, and ran down the hall.

"Tim!" they each shouted at the top of their lungs, peering into the cells, taking as little time as possible. "Tim!"

Helena was fastest, darting from cell to cell, and she stopped almost halfway down the hall. She peered inside the cell, then turned to Kory and Dick and started yelling. Kory couldn't hear what Helena was saying, but there was only one thing that would make her react like that. Kory and Dick ran to meet her, taking their own looks inside the cell.

There was a young boy with dark hair and blue eyes. He was in rough shape: dark bags under his eyes, sunken cheeks, and a haunted expression.

"Tim?" Dick asked.

For a moment, it looked like the boy wasn't going to react... until his gaze flicked from the corner of the room up to the window.

"We're here to rescue you, for Jason," Dick said.

Tim's blank expression faltered, his eyes widening, lips dipping down into a frown. "Jason's dead."

Dick grimaced. "We know. But we're here for you. We're getting you out."

"The keycard," Kory said. She stepped back and focused on the lock, then looked at Dick. "Harley has it."

"No, she doesn't." Helena held up her hand, the keycard between her fingers. "She gave it to me while you guys were busy having your moment."

"It wasn't a _moment_ ," Dick said, the same time Kory said, "It was a wonderful moment."

Helena shook her head, nudging them out of the way, and opened the door.

Tim stared at them in disbelief as the door slid open. He moved slowly, stretching out his legs and rising to his feet.

"Come on, Tim." Dick held out his hand.

Like a wounded animal, Tim approached slowly. He reached out to take Dick's hand.

There was a loud bang, and Kory whipped around, looking down the hall. A squad of Hydra agents was coming through the door opposite the stairwell.

"No more time for moments!" Kory shouted. She grabbed Tim's hand before he could take Dick's and dragged him out of the cell, pushing him toward Dick. "You are on Tim duty."

"Tim duty?" Tim repeated, so quietly Kory almost didn't hear him.

"No time; let's go!" Helena said.

They booked it back toward the stairs, glancing over their shoulders to make sure the Hydra agents weren't gaining on them. Thankfully, the agents were slowing down. Not so thankfully, they were slowing because they were lifting their guns and getting ready to fire.

In this hallway, with only one way to run, they probably wouldn't miss.

"We didn't ask Wade for any weapons; _why_ didn't we ask for any weapons?" Dick said.

They were twenty feet from the door; the agents were ten feet behind them.

Kory pivoted on her heel and dove toward the agents, twisting toward the wall as the first shots rang out. She felt one whizz past, flying through her hair and striking the wall behind her. That was as close as it got before she tackled the nearest agent, taking out their legs. She rolled, kicked out at the feet of the next agent nearest to her, and lashed out at the closest vulnerable point she could reach.

The agent gasped sharply when Kory struck him in the groin. She snatched his gun, grabbed the agent by the vest, and rolled again. The next volley of shots hit the agent instead of her.

Aiming blindly, she pulled the trigger, grinning triumphantly when she heard shouts of pain. As soon as she had the chance, she pushed her cover away and scrambled to her feet, grabbing another gun. She let out another spray of bullets, praying she wasn't wasting too much ammo, and took off.

The others were already through the door, and when Kory burst into the stairwell, it was to see Helena kicking an agent in the stomach. The agent stumbled back and slipped off the landing, tumbling down the stairs and falling onto more enemies coming in their direction.

"Here." Kory passed over her second gun.

"Go after Dick; I'll be right behind you," Helena said.

Kory nodded and took off again, bounding up the steps. When she glanced over her shoulder, Helena was striking an agent in the chest with the butt of her gun, quickly following it up with a shot to the gut. Just like the first, that agent toppled backwards and created another obstacle for any agents to follow.

Kory caught up with Dick and Tim on the next landing. There were a few agents sprawled on the stairs, some of them with deep cuts on their chests.

"That is not your work," Kory said, eyeing the body.

"Wade said he'd clear the way." Dick shrugged. He glanced back, toward Helena, and a relieved smile broke out across his face.

Kory followed his gaze and saw Helena taking the steps two at a time as she ran up to meet them.

"I slowed them down, but not for long. Let's go."

Dick was half dragging, half carrying Tim up the stairs. The younger boy was too weak to match their pace, and Dick himself was still recovering, but they couldn't risk slowing down.

"They were waiting for us," Dick said, puffing as they ran up the stairs. "They wanted to close us in from the top and the bottom."

Kory nearly stumbled over another fallen agent, kicking them when their hand moved toward her ankle.

"Viper knew we'd go lower?" Helena asked.

Dick shook his head. "I don't know. Maybe? She couldn't have known we'd be rescued; _we_ didn't know we were being rescued."

"We had far too much time to ourselves," Kory said. "But that does not matter now."

Helena frowned. "No, it doesn't."

The closer they got to the level where they had been held, the more agents littered the stairs. It was only a few squad's worth, but Kory felt a touch of pride at the fact that Viper sent so many.

Viper knew they were a threat. Good.

A guttural scream pierced the air, followed by a _clang_ as an agent fell down the stairwell, smacking against the rail at their level before tumbling down into the dark. Gunshots and shouts became more noticeable over the still-screaming alarm. They climbed two more flights, passing the first level, before they ran into the others.

Harley was nimble, teaming up with Ivy to take an enemy down. Sinthea worked around them, unbalancing anyone in their way and setting them up for the fall, even though her dominant hand was still clutched to her chest, obviously injured. Kory remembered that Viper had pulled Sinthea aside when they were first captured; she wondered what Viper had done to her.

Wade was in the lead, fighting with more of a wild flare. He hacked at anything within reach that wasn't an ally. It was a unique technique, effective for the most part, but not perfect. Especially not against five Hydra agents with guns.

Kory and Helena ran to help him without a word while Dick hung back with Tim. They darted around the women and came up behind Wade.

"Behind you!" Kory shouted at the boys, spotting one more group of agents on the stairs.

Wade shifted away, pulling his swords back as Helena planted her feet and whipped her gun around. Kory, always more confident in her hand-to-hand skills than her mastery of guns, charged on. She trusted Helena not to miss.

The Hydra agents had an advantage with the high ground, but it gave Kory easy access to their feet. Rather than running up to be on their level, she whipped their ankles with her own gun. As one agent lost their balance, Kory hooked her gun around his leg and yanked, jumping to the side so he didn't fall on top of her. Instead, he fell right into the path of Wade's sword.

Wade shot her a thumbs-up. "Good teamwork, Kory-kins!"

It wasn't even a minute before the last three agents went down, falling quickly under Helena's surefire aim.

With the alarm blaring in the background, they stood for a moment, panting, struggling to catch their breath as all the aches and bruises settled in.

"It's a long way up," Ivy said, brushing past her.

Kory bristled, instinctively shifting back toward Dick.

Harley stared at Kory as she passed, but no one said anything. They had a base to escape.

* * *

Kory was certain she had never been more relieved than when they reached the top landing — other than when she saw Dick alive and well again. Or when Bruce swooped in and rescued her from the arena. Not to mention when she got to deck Komander in the face.

But stepping out into the daylight after climbing for what felt like forever was definitely a top moment.

Tim was squinting into the sun, staying close to Dick. Harley and Wade were quickly wrapped up in a wholly inappropriately-timed kiss that only ended when Wade paused to gush about her pyrotechnic abilities; apparently, she'd left behind some grenades and weapons from Hydra agents that were sure to overload and take out Viper's lair after they left.

Kory felt some of the tension ease out of her shoulders. Not all of it, but some. Ivy was still with them, after all.

"So where'd you park?" Sinthea asked.

"It's a walk," Wade said. "So follow me, ladies, gentleman, and small child whose name I forget."

Wade didn't wait to see if they would; he didn't need to. They followed in file, constantly on the lookout for more agents. They were out of the base, but that didn't mean they were in the clear. The Capitol was Hydra territory, and enemies could be anywhere.

Dick and Tim walked in the middle of the pack, Kory a pace ahead of them and Helena a pace behind. Sinthea took up the rear, and Harley and Ivy were just ahead of Kory.

Kory refused to let Ivy out of her vision, and she refused to be anywhere but between Ivy and Dick. She couldn't remember another time in her life when she had felt more paranoid. Not even during the Games. Everyone she worked with then, she had trusted. Even, for a short time, Ivy — to some extent. The Games felt so small compared to this. A minor accomplishment.

Kory felt all the tension she had just let go returning at a fast pace. The adrenaline was fading, and while her anger remained, as long as they were out of danger, it wasn't enough to keep the exhaustion at bay. She almost found herself wishing some more Hydra agents, or even Viper herself, would jump out from behind the nearest building and start attacking them.

It would make a good distraction.

"I think it's your turn to be on Tim duty," Dick said.

Kory nearly jumped, her gaze slipping from shady streets to Dick. He was walking next to her now, Tim between them.

"I'm not a job," Tim grumbled, and Dick grinned.

"Of course not; otherwise, we'd be getting paid."

"You can ignore him; that is what I do when necessary," Kory said. She hesitated for just a second before laying a hand on Tim's head. His hair was dirty and unkempt, sticking up every which way.

"Oh, is _that_ what you do?" Dick asked.

Kory smiled and leaned over, brushing the tips of her fingers against the back of Dick's neck and slowly trailing down his spine. "And this."

Dick's grin turned goofy as his face flushed.

Tim wrinkled his nose. "No thank you."

Helena laughed and called out, "Not really the place for this, you guys. Save it for home."

"Hey, shush," Harley hissed, glaring over her shoulder. "Ain't no time like the present."

Tim glanced up at Kory, then Dick, then looked down at his feet.

Kory politely pretended she didn't hear him sniffling as he mumbled a soft, "Thank you." Instead, she settled her hand on Tim's hair again and brushed her fingers through the tangles, the same way Komander used to do it for her, when they were little and could still be considered sisters.

* * *

When the plane came into view, Wade scampered ahead and was the first inside. By the time everyone else reached it, he was already starting it up.

It was a miracle they hadn't faced anyone else on their out.

"That's how it was when we came in," Ivy told Kory. It was probably the nicest thing either of them had said to each other throughout the whole ordeal.

Dick strapped Tim, who looked ready to faint from exhaustion, into a seat and headed toward the cockpit.

Kory hovered halfway between the door and Tim as Dick left, unsure which way to go…. Until Harley flounced over and plopped down next to Tim, crossing her legs and resting her chin on the heel of her palm.

"So," Harley said, "what's your deal, lil fella?"

Sinthea was talking to Ivy, holding a quiet conversation near the back of the plane, and Helena was situating herself on Tim's other side.

Kory nodded and went after Dick. She found him perched on the edge of the co-pilot's seat, working the radio. He caught her her eye when she entered the cockpit and motioned her over, scooting to the side. The seat was barely big enough for the both of them, but that wasn't a problem.

"Hey, Logan?"

Kory closed her eyes as Dick started speaking, resting her head on his shoulder. She let everything fall away around her, focusing on the rise and fall of Dick's chest.

"Yeah, we're coming home."

Kory fell asleep with Dick's hand in her hair, the other draped across her knees, and felt more relaxed than she had in a long time.


	41. Chapter 41: Puzzle Pieces

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We're excited to bring you another multi-character chapter choc full of goodness :D**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have been so supportive and have reviewed, and thank you to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your review (we love the character growth our writers pull off too!)**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-One - Puzzle Pieces**

 **Agent Skye, Bruce Wayne, and Vic Sage**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

 _You can't always get what you want._

 _But if you try sometimes you might find_

 _You get what you need._

-The Rolling Stones, _You Can't Always Get What You Want_

* * *

 **Agent Skye**

 **Official Bodyguard to the Director of SHIELD**

 **Evening After The Stylists Wedding**

 **The Beach of District Four**

* * *

The battle in Four had been fierce, and after it was over Skye had been a little wary about diving in with the group the way she had, but … she _did_ have a job to do, and outside of the initial terror of going back into a fire fight after getting badly injured, she still liked the view her position of 'bodyguard' gave her.

Everything that had happened after the battle was just that much more of a bonus. Aside from getting to ogle the warriors in Four up close, she happily helped check over her charge. What was even better was that Logan had made sure to return the favor, checking that her injuries were minor once the fight was won, even before he made his way toward the Fours that were running things — which had earned her a few _looks_ from the Amazonians in Four that were standing nearest her. Of course, she couldn't help but smile crookedly when they did so. She still couldn't believe how _tall_ all those women were.

But even their muted smirks were nothing compared to the looks she got after the _wedding_ that had happened out of _nowhere_.

She had been taking a moment to double-check Logan's bandages after seeing that he'd bled through them and what was left of his shirt. As a neat side effect of her official title, she'd figured out how to get him to _behave_ for things like that after she'd put him on the ground in Seven. But in the middle of double-checking a graze he'd gotten near his hip and studiously doing her best to keep her poker face as he held still for her, they were somewhat rudely interrupted by a streak of yellow and hot pink. Skye had nearly been bowled out of the way when Jubilee rushed in to tackle Logan when she asked him to be her best man. Which Skye would have been really mad about if it wasn't for the way that Logan had reacted.

There had been some rumors in the Capitol about the two of them, of course, but … it was clear to Skye how genuinely _happy_ Logan had been for Jubilee by the way he scooped her up into a bear hug after agreeing to help her. Clearly, they were close. But … more like a brother-sister thing, _obviously_ — and he broke into the most beautiful, honest smile at the wedding itself...

Skye hadn't gotten over that smile. And she was sure he'd noticed how much she kept stealing little glances at him as the party after the wedding continued around them. Logan wasn't drinking much at all, and after a few dances with Jubilee and several of the lady warriors of Four, he'd stayed to the _job._ Which was fine. _Just fine_. It wasn't like Skye was expecting to get a dance or anything before Antiope had pulled him off the dance floor so that they could discuss things with the other leaders of Atlantis and the Amazons that had finally congregated. Odin's group was still in a tailspin from losing their All-Father, so aside from Thor trying to keep the Asgardians energized, they weren't really in the mood for celebrations.

As the powers that be talked, Skye didn't have anything to do with herself, and as she fell into her now normal pattern of trying not to openly watch Logan, she started absently playing with her braid. This was _so_ much better than watching him work the shark tank of Capitolites…. He never smiled like _that_ in the tank, after all. And now that Skye had caught it … she wanted to see more of it.

When she caught his eye, she realized he knew how much she was watching him, and she finally stepped back a little bit to try and see if her tablet had given her anything new. It wasn't like she could do anything but _watch_ while Logan was in the middle of discussions with the Fours.

She blew out her breath, glancing toward the festivities near the ocean's edge and honestly tried not to be too irritated that she hadn't had a chance to dance, when she thought she heard Logan say her name. She didn't hear the context, though, and spun to look at him, but when she saw that he wasn't looking her way, she bit her lip and went back to the tablet. She might not be much of a bodyguard, but if she could get a signal …

"Skye," Logan called out. But Skye didn't hear him at first … until he repeated himself with an unmistakable nickname that she couldn't _not_ react to. "Hey, crackerjack, you get a chance to look at the feeds?"

She looked over to him with wide eyes, clearly off-guard. "Doing it now," Skye replied with a little blush, swearing to herself as she tried to get it to reload. "Signal's kind of weak." She looked up to realize that he was watching her with his head tipped slightly to the side, but that .. didn't help matters. _Why does he have to have such clear blue eyes?_ she thought to herself and cursed her tablet and tried to duck down behind it. _You can stop watching me now._

Finally, the tablet gave her a little chime indicating that the intel had loaded, and she handed it over to Logan.

What the Fours hadn't counted on was the simple openness that Logan had when it came to the unfiltered intelligence. Though Skye had to jump through hoops to get that intel, Logan wasn't shy in sharing with them what he was looking at. Which, of course, had the Fours rallying to aid their neighbors in Eleven — who were facing a battle of their own.

But once that was settled, and Logan got done thanking the Fours for their help (to their obvious approval) it was once again just Skye and her task of looking over the director, which was both a juggling trick that was impossible to do … and very, very cush scenery.

"The transport should be here any minute," Skye said. "You need to get back to Seven." She took a moment to give him an obvious once-over that he was familiar with from her teasing. "And _probably_ get some better medical than battlefield patch ups…"

Logan gave her a little smirk. "Yeah? Think they'll wanna make me strip again?"

She blinked for a second, and a crooked smile started at the corner of her mouth. "You never know."

He was chuckling to himself, clearly in a good mood as the transport came in, decloaking only as it touched down. "I'll bet you're lookin' forward to better tech."

"Faster tech, anyhow," she admitted as they headed for the craft. It was a little one, much smaller than the one that carried the troops into Four. When they climbed in, it was to find that Bruce Wayne himself had come to make sure Logan wasn't too banged up, and he looked pleasantly surprised.

"I hope you got that out of your system," Bruce said as Logan headed over to take a seat. Of course, Logan merely grunted in response as Skye followed a few steps behind. The special agent that was handling the door gave her a warm sort of smile before he latched it behind her.

"You've got a laptop waiting for you," he said. "Agent Coulson said to be sure you had a fast one, so … we aim to please." He paused and extended his hand. "Special Agent Clay Quartermain. You … have one hell of a hard job ahead of you if you're going to keep trying to watch out for him."

"Right … you had this detail before, right?" Skye asked, not because she was supposed to know that, and not because she'd hacked into the system to see who was on all the different victors before the revolution. Nope. That wasn't it at all.

But Quartermain just smiled wider. "Yeah … Coulson said I'd like you. Who doesn't like a new agent that can't take no for an answer?"

Skye smiled a little wider, but that slipped on seeing the _other_ occupant of their flight sitting in a corner with headphones on as he poured over a laptop of his own. She frowned to herself and stopped entirely her lips parted in question before Quartermain answered as she drew in a breath.

"Ignore him; he's just like this," Quartermain said. "If he was a risk, you know he wouldn't be on the director's flight." He smiled at her warmly again. "But feel free to tackle him and interrogate him if you think it's necessary."

"Shut up," Skye said, blushing a little and smiling as Quartermain laughed at his own little joke and took a seat across the aisle from the stranger on the laptop. When she got to where Bruce and Logan were quietly chatting — though that description was a bit generous, considering how much Logan was contributing — she couldn't help but smile when Logan absently handed her the laptop that was next to him just waiting for her.

Logan had just let out a breath and closed his eyes for a few moments, which gave Skye a moment to appreciate her company as she got into the freshest intel.

They were barely in the air before she realized that Logan was already asleep, sitting up with his arms crossed in the jumpseat next to her. Which … she wasn't exactly prepared for. The glow of her screen lit up his face, and she honestly lost some of her professional edge as she just … _stared_ at the perfectly peaceful expression he was wearing.

Until, of course, Bruce _freakin'_ Wayne caught her and let her _know_ he'd caught her by clearing his throat.

"What?" Skye said, wide-eyed as she belatedly went back to her incoming information, though she knew her cheeks had to be bright red. "I had to let it load…"

When she peeked up at Wayne, he had his arms crossed with a much better poker face than she could manage. _What is it about Sevens?_ she thought to herself before she sank down to hide behind her laptop. Things refreshed so much faster on a computer … But when she saw what they'd missed while fighting and dealing with the after-festivities …

The news was … well... very much what Skye had expected. Lots of battle reports, lots of reports of refugees setting up camps in the wilds at the districts' outskirts all over the country. She knew firsthand that the fight in Four had gone beautifully, and the battle in Eleven was really just lacking the new wave of forces to add to their fight … it was more or less a sure thing. But … outside of the fact that Hydra was pushing through Five the way SHIELD had expected them to and the reports that they might have more trouble from Six …

It wasn't until she spotted the little message marked 'urgent' that she even _saw_ that someone was trying to reach out to Logan directly. _No, no, no, no,_ Skye thought to herself as she opened the file, and just like that, the hostage video was playing before she could stop it.

She quickly hit pause before it could get going too far. For an instant, she glanced over at Logan, holding her breath to see that he still had his eyes closed and _still_ looked peaceful. But … the guy had ears like a bat, and she'd seen him catch things she really didn't think anyone could have heard properly. She quickly put her earbuds in, though when the camera panned out to show Viper sitting on Dick Grayson's lap …

"Oh crap," Skye breathed out. It was obvious that it was totally involuntary, but it had Bruce's attention — and it was enough to rouse Logan. Both of them turned her way, but Bruce was clearly more awake.

Well, she couldn't _not_ tell them…

"It's just …" She hit a few keys, pulled out one earbud, and blew out her breath as Logan shifted next to her to look over her shoulder. "... it's not the best news."

"Let's see what you got," Logan said in a soft rumble.

Skye almost held her breath as she pulled the headphone jack out, reset the ticker, and hit the play button on the video starring Viper and Dick Grayson.

* * *

 **Vic Sage**

 **Special Agent In Charge of Intelligence Gathering**

 **The Director's Transport**

* * *

The wonderful thing about wearing headphones and looking concentrated was that no one ever suspected you of eavesdropping.

Well, it was possible Agent Quartermain suspected something, but then, Vic knew that Quartermain had moved on from using him to trusting him, if the other occupants of the transport were anything to go by. Which was, of course, indicative of how Hydra had been able to so fully ingratiate itself into SHIELD in the first place, if its best operatives were so trusting.

And to be fair to the trusting Agent Quartermain, Vic did have plenty to occupy his time and attention. There were plenty of people working on breaking into Hydra's mainframes and trying to break into the "big" communications, but that had never interested Vic. That wasn't where the real power was, anyway.

No, if he wanted to find the things no one else looked for, the key was _always_ to look where no one else was looking. And so he was cycling through frequencies, listening not for Hydra chatter but for the on-the-ground calls for the help, the regular reports that were falling through the cracks because "there's a war on."

He knew, for example, that there was a group of young rebels — teenagers, by the sound of their transmissions — who had taken it upon themselves to harass Oscorp in Eight while Norman Osborn tried to accumulate local power under the cover of war.

He knew that there were reports from Two that the bar Viper had owned there, which always had rumors of disappearances, was practically a no-fly-zone, judging by how many people were now _openly_ going missing. Not just vagrants and criminals but regular civilians.

He knew there were rumors that Selene Gallio was back in One and hired as many people as were willing to take the job for security against Hydra _and_ against SHIELD.

But at the moment, he was investigating something going on in Seven. It wasn't just the fact that SHIELD knew Victor Creed was in the area — and had dropped a Hydra operative on their front doorstep like some kind of overgrown cat bringing home a dead mouse — though that definitely had his attention. It was the _pattern_ of reports of the former victor that had Vic interested.

Try as the Capitol might to paint the man up as a savage, they were missing something crucial: savages didn't make the kinds of plans within plans that Vic saw in Creed's movements.

It wasn't just about drawing Logan's attention. Creed was creeping around the district making sure to undermine anyone who even _liked_ the new director — or to kill them outright. And the latest reports from the former Head Sentinel on the attack on a cutting crew in the district fit that pattern.

Victor Creed wanted a confrontation, and he wanted it on his terms, with an overly-emotional opponent marked by grief and anger and, therefore, easier to destroy than a more focused opponent. It _wasn't_ all rage and sadism.

It was an interesting pattern to follow — especially contrasted with the new director himself, who was still technically a teenager and clearly subject to some of those pitfalls, judging by the interactions between him and his little SHIELD bodyguard.

 _She doesn't look standard-issue._ Vic smirked to himself. _After a year, you'd think even a little terrorist would assimilate better._ But rather than dwell on that too much, he went back to what he was doing, checking a few other frequencies. It looked like Logan was going to sleep, and if Creed's pattern held, Logan would need that sleep so he could be prepared to deal with his former mentor as soon as they landed in Seven.

Vic would give him an hour, maybe two. The ride took three. An hour or two would be plenty of time to relay what he knew about the cutters' death as well as the pattern of sightings that former Sentinels had reported to Jim Gordon that suggested Creed was now circling the Howlett Estate, like some kind of shark.

And then… something happened that hadn't happened in a long time.

Vic was surprised.

The little SHIELD agent beside Logan straightened up and let out an audible half-swear that got the attention of everyone in the transport — even Vic. He wondered for a moment if she'd seen what he had seen in Seven, but when she removed her headphones and he heard Ophelia Sarkissian, of all people … well, he was taken off his guard.

Not, of course, because he hadn't expected her to make a play. No, it was blatantly obvious from what he'd read of the reports from Logan's short stint as a victor in the Capitol that she had staked a claim. It was almost inevitable that she'd want to see some kind of return from all of that work.

No, he was surprised because he hadn't been watching the former tributes as closely as he had been watching everything else — and so the bait, the specifics of Viper's play, well, it was _cliche_.

Almost disappointing.

Not that he would say as much — not considering _who_ was in the transport.

Vic leaned forward, no longer pretending to be wrapped up in his own work, watching Bruce Wayne and Logan as they both turned different shades — Logan redder and Bruce paler.

This … this was a wrench in several different plans all at once. A blatant trap even more obvious than Victor Creed's. And if Vic was reading the players right, this transport would be headed to the Capitol to go rescue Richard Grayson as soon as the hostage video was finished playing.

Vic sat back and closed his laptop. Now, the question was: which was the more pressing trap? And which captor did their little director prefer, exactly?

This would be interesting.

* * *

 **Bruce Wayne**

 **District Seven Liaison To SHIELD**

 **Somewhere Over Marvel**

* * *

Bruce hadn't been this angry since his kids were _both_ Reaped and Nick Fury had been ignoring his calls.

He had known that Helena and Dick were on a rescue mission — which was, of course, why they hadn't been in Four with the rest of SHIELD's troops. But he'd trusted them both to handle it. He knew what they were capable of, and he knew that they had solid backup.

So there was no reason for this to have gone _this_ wrong.

"What _happened_?" Bruce demanded, whirling to face Logan.

"I don't know," Logan said. "It shouldn't have been that high risk. They left with the best gear and weapons …"

"Well, obviously, something went wrong," Bruce said, his gaze finding Skye now as he looked for something that made _sense_. "What happened?"

"I don't know; I'm sorry. I'm cracking into their comms. Everything is automatically recorded. Hill's supposed to have the only door in, but … just give me a minute and I'll figure it out." Skye was typing frantically, wide-eyed as she worked.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "I just need to know a location," he said after a moment's pause, his tone settling into something darker.

"I already know the location," Logan said. "It'll be at her place."

Bruce shook his head. "That doesn't surprise me, especially since it's such an obvious trap a child could see it coming."

"Never said she was creative," Logan muttered. "Just gonna have to give her more than she's lookin' for." Logan crossed his arms and leaned back in his seat, glaring at the screen Skye was working on. "There are metal detectors at the doors. She had a ton of guards to start with, but she's the top snake now, so that's gotta be worse."

"They're between me and my kids. I don't give a damn how many there are," Bruce told him, again in that same dangerous tone.

It had been a while, sure, since he'd really gotten to sink his teeth into a _fight_ , but he hadn't been lazing around the manor, either. And he had been taking advantage of SHIELD's training facilities, too. And even if none of that was true, he'd still be going.

"She'll shoot you on sight," Logan said. "That won't help them."

Bruce gave him a dry look. "Did I say I was walking through the front door with you?"

"I've dealt with her before," Logan said. "You're gonna need some catching up before we go in."

"Then start talking so I can give you proper backup before we get to this snake."

"As interesting as that would be," broke in Quartermain's eccentric, "and as much as I'd really love to hear about the new Lady Hydra from the perspective of one of the people she's laid claim to…." He gave Logan a look. "You should be aware of a different problem."

"What do you know, Sage?" Logan asked, arms crossed.

Vic opened up his laptop again and then passed it Logan's way. "I know that Victor Creed just killed two cutters in Seven and made an attempt on your cousin's life as well."

Logan's expression didn't change on the news of the deaths — and attempted murder of Mac Hudson. Instead, he simply read it over and nodded once. "Sounds like the damage was already done."

"Not entirely," Vic said. "He's circling the estate. Now, based on his patterns, that's either to finish Hudson off if he shows his face or it's to find another victim that he thinks will get your attention if you ignore him much longer — but the point is, the timeline is shrinking, and his attacks are getting more frequent." Vic spread his hands out. "The longer you're out of Seven, the more people he'll kill to draw you home."

"I don't have the time or patience to deal with Victor Creed's crap," Logan growled out.

"I suggest you make time, considering how many minors are currently hidden there. Or make other arrangements for them," Vic said evenly.

"Where's Victoria Creed?" Logan said, turning to Skye. "If we want to know where he'll be, we can pick up his mother. He won't like that."

"I can check on that," Skye said, still working feverishly. "But … we have an incoming message from a transport that's leaving the Capitol now …"

"Nothing's supposed to be there now," Quartermain said, coming a little closer to the action. "Not if we're just now getting Viper's little message. No one's had time to react."

"If she's moving them to Two," Bruce said, his eyes narrowed, "she might have another threat to make. We don't know when she recorded the last one."

"I wouldn't be surprised," Logan muttered.

"The last video was time-stamped six hours ago," Skye said.

Bruce glanced to Logan and then let out a frustrated sound and gestured to Skye. "Well, let's see what she has to say. She's already dead. She's only digging her grave that much deeper"

"Just bringing it up now," Skye said, almost holding her breath as she opened the line. "This is Agent Skye of SHIELD. What's your situation?"

"Skye? Then you have to be with Logan," Dick said. "He there?"

Skye looked over at Logan, not even bothering to hide the fact that she was relieved to hear him. "Yeah. Say 'hi'," she said.

There was a pause, and then, "Hey, Logan? Yeah, we're coming home."

Bruce felt his heart almost give out, because it was such a rush of relief and tightness at the same time.

"Is everyone alright?" Skye asked. "Or do you need medical?" It was obvious to Bruce that she was resolutely doing her level best not to look at him _at all_.

"Um, yeah, definitely going to need the docs on this one," Wade said, cutting in over Dick.

"What are we lookin' at, Deadpool?" Logan asked. "Just need to know how many beds you'll need."

"Minor injuries, as far as I can tell, but don't quote me on that. Even if I've been playing doctor, I am _not_ a professional." Wade paused then let his tone get more serious. "We'll need some medical just because of what Viper _did_ to them, but no one's going to die before we get there. I don't think. Guys? No imminent deaths, right? Yeah? Good." Logan drew a breath and Wade almost shouted in excitement. "Oh, and we rescued a teeny tiny baby bird who's going to need a _whole lot_ of tender lovin' care too! He's so cute! All he needs is an ittle bittle cape!"

"I don't even know where to start with that," Logan muttered low. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Oh, well, we couldn't find the _edgier_ Robin, but we _did_ find his cuter little brother. Well, I say 'we'..."

"You got a kid outta there?" Logan cut across him, sounding more than a little ticked off.

"Sure did. And I don't mind telling you, I can totally see how Viper and the Skull were a thing. Same _basic_ idea, but the Skull is way more hands-on. Not pretty…"

"Wade, stop talking," Logan said, rubbing his eyes with one hand. "Skye will patch you through to the docs. But I need to know how the Wayne kids are."

"I'm fine. And ready to go back to kick her sorry—" Helena's voice cut in over the comms.

"Pretty sure you're gonna need parental permission now," Logan said, glancing up at Bruce. "Your brother too."

"Neither of you are going anywhere until you've had a doctor examine you," Bruce said — and though his tone was perfectly stern, everyone in the transport could _see_ how relieved he was to hear Helena's voice. He wasn't even bothering to hide it as much as he usually would, not when he had been so ready to storm Viper's lair only moments ago.

"Dad, I'm _fine_. Grayson may need a couple band-aids, but —"

"Hey. I'm fine too," Dick said, though it was clear Helena was ignoring him.

"Neither of you are in a state to tell me anything that I'll believe about your physical condition," Bruce said. "We're stationed in Seven. Agent Skye will send you coordinates. We'll decide what we do from there." He paused. " _After_ you've both been seen to, kitten. Not before."

"Wait. We're not going to Seven yet. If we're gonna hit her, we need to hit her now when she thinks she's got the upper hand," Logan said. "They can meet us at the house, but I know that look, and I want to hit her fast."

"She's not an immediate threat," Vic put in. "Not anymore. Not like Victor Creed. That was the point of everything I just told you."

Logan turned his way and pointed a finger at him. "Didn't ask you."

"No one ever does. But it would make things much simpler if they did."

"If I remember right, you had a reputation on the level with Skye on the terrorism scale," Logan said. "Give me a reason to believe this isn't a crazy scam to get someone killed, because I come up with plenty of those on my own."

Vic let out a scoff and shook his head. "I'm a crackpot, but I'm not a killer. And if I was, I've had ample opportunity since I arrived in SHIELD to scum up your works. This isn't some elaborate scheme." He paused and smirked. "Although that would be preferable to the nonsense of dealing with Victor Creed and his insane vendetta. I haven't seen a good _scheme_ since Ra's was killed. Skull and Viper are so predictable."

"You're not wrong there," Logan muttered as Quartermain picked up the computer Vic had and spent a moment poking around until he found the report from Gordon outlining the attack at the estate.

"It looks like Creed took a shot at more than just Smith and Judd," Quartermain said. "There are a few reports from someone named 'Twoyoungmen' — and the attack left Hudson and Gordon both with a visit to the hospital wing." He looked up and tipped his head to the side. "I hate to say it, but somehow he _is_ getting more violent."

Logan was well beyond irritated as he tried and failed to control his expression of pure loathing. "Then he's not goin' under arrest. I want him dead."

"I'll make sure the word gets out," Skye said in a breath. "Not that you hadn't made it clear that's what you'd prefer already…"

"We'll see you in Seven," Bruce said — a bit louder so that he knew the kids would catch it.

"Sounds exciting. Daring-do in the forests and all that," Wade said, followed by a noise that Bruce was quite sure meant Helena had smacked him.

"Get a response ready for Viper," Logan said from between clenched teeth as he turned toward Skye and kept his tone low. "I'm still gonna want all the intel around her sooner than later. If we move fast, she doesn't need to know that _I_ know they're out."

While Bruce saw Skye nodding as she worked, he ignored that conversation for the time being; they could come back to it. Viper was still going to pay for messing with his family. But that would come later.

Instead, he was focused entirely on his kids as he leaned toward the mic. "Tell me what happened," he said — and didn't tear his gaze off the communications relay as Helena, after a long sigh, did just that.

He _needed_ to know his kids were okay. He was tired of knowing they were in the crosshairs and not being able to do anything about it.

And after seeing what Viper had done to Dick, Bruce knew he wasn't going to let up until his son was at the very _least_ where Alfred could safely ply him with food.

Bruce had never been good at talking. But for something this big… he was going to need to find the words.


	42. Chapter 42: Don't Touch Me

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're back in District Seven with a little more Kate and Kurt because... we need 'em.**

 **Thanks to TheRaspberryVigilante41 and Slim Summers2002 for your reviews. We love how much you love BatDad!**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Two- Don't Touch Me**

 **Kate Bishop, Formerly of District Twelve**

 **The Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Rage is like a wounded animal. It attacks anything that moves. And as with a wounded animal, the attacks do nothing to ease the pain." -Thomas J. Harbin,_ Beyond Anger

* * *

There was something calming about being outside.

Even though this was District Seven, and the trees were different than those in District Twelve — taller, with deeper greens — the _feeling_ was the same. There were a few trees on the grounds, though even the ones beyond the estate's gates… those were familiar too. Trees beyond a fence, calling her name and promising adventure.

Kate knew that Charles called it progress, the fact that she could go outside like this. It was a sign that he _trusted_ her, though she didn't know why. There were still days that she thought it might be better if she just…

Well, she tried to shove those thoughts down when they popped up, because Charles and Raven both had made it a point to tell her, in no uncertain terms, just how many people she'd be hurting. Kurt's name came up the most often, obviously, but so did everyone that had poured so much time into trying to help her, like Clint and America. Not to mention the friends she had from Twelve that had only _just_ learned she was alive.

It was a guilt trip, but it was totally working.

Besides, it was harder to fall back on that particular option when she had Kurt with her. Or, well, anyone, really.

Charles had declared that Kate wasn't allowed to be alone, and Kate's friends had taken to that rule perfectly. Earlier that morning, America and Kate had climbed a tree and didn't come back down until they were both starving — and laughing.

Kate hadn't laughed that hard in _ages_.

* * *

" _You came to the hideout in your_ pajamas _, Kate," America laughed. She was lying on the branch with one leg bent for balance and her hair falling down around the branch like a willow tree, perfectly relaxed as the two of them talked about anything and everything. At the moment, that meant they were talking about how Kate had joined their team. "If we hadn't still been in shock from Cassie's Reaping, I would have let you join just to_ look _at you."_

 _Kate laughed at that. "Oh, I didn't realize you were so hard up for eye candy!"_

" _It's a very serious problem, Princess!" America said, grinning crookedly._

" _What about the other Twelve girl?" Kate asked. "I haven't met her yet, but I heard some comparisons to our year…"_

" _Oh yeah; they were trying to play up the made-up romance between you and Logan that the Capitol tried to forcibly video edit you into," America said, shaking her head. "They brought it up again because the boy from Seven fell_ hard _for our girl."_

" _For good reason?" Kate teased._

 _America turned her head so she was facing Kate better and looked perfectly serious as she considered the question. "I'd give her a nine out of ten. But only because I'm partial to dark hair and girls that aren't taller than me."_

" _So if she was shorter and dyed her hair…"_

" _Ten out of ten. Would absolutely make out with her."_

 _Kate laughed. "Well, it's good to know our district still holds the trophy for best-looking tributes."_

" _I met your stylist for a hot second, and he seemed pretty pleased with what he had to work with, yeah."_

" _Wait, you met Noh-Varr?" Kate asked. She'd completely forgotten his name until America brought him up, but the feeling of being safe in a tree with her best friend in the world seemed to be doing wonders for her memory. As soon as she heard the name, it was like the floodgate opened up, and she remembered her stylist dancing around with one headphone dangling around his neck and the other in his ear. "He was so much fun!"_

" _Yeah, and his wife is_ gorgeous _too," America said._

" _He's married?" Kate asked. "Really? Since when?"_

" _Scuttlebutt is they decided, hey, battlefield on the beach… Sure, why not?" America laughed._

" _That sounds like something you'd do," Kate said with a smile._

" _Oh yeah, when I get around to it," America said, waving her hand lazily. "The one thing I will say this revolution has going for it is there's plenty to look at. Twelve's not very big, and after you died, there wasn't much left for eye candy."_

" _Okay, but now I'm almost afraid to ask…"_

 _America sat up and grinned obnoxiously. "Oh, Princess," she said, "ask away."_

* * *

 **"** **What are you thinking about?" Kurt asked.**

Kate blinked, turning Kurt's way to see that he had on a warm sort of smile, the kind that made it easy to want to tell him everything. He had been that way in the Games, too, and the more time she spent with him, the more she remembered that about him. She felt _safe_ with him, but it wasn't just about being safe from Hydra. It was about being safe enough to be herself even in a death arena with cameras watching their every move.

"America," Kate said.

"I thought so." Kurt nodded as the two of them sat down together. The grounds at the estate were expansive, and there was a garden, complete with neatly-kept hedges, that provided the sort of serenity Kate had been craving. Not _silence_ — she'd had enough of that sitting by herself in that room in the last SHIELD base. No, this was… calm. This was still.

"What are _you_ thinking about?" Kate asked.

"Well, when I asked you, I was thinking about how nice it is to see you smiling again and wondering how I could help you do it more often," Kurt admitted. "Now, I'm thinking about how much I would like to hold your hand."

Kate smiled at that and reached over to lace her fingers through Kurt's. "For the record," she said, "that is definitely a way to make me smile."

"Oh, good, because I don't know that I could do whatever it was America was doing," Kurt laughed.

Kate's smile turned into something much wider. "Climb a tree and rate all the girls in the Tahiti program and all the lady victors on how hot they are? No, that doesn't sound like you."

Kurt laughed. "Is that really what you were up to?"

"For the record, when we started including the ones that have been coming in from the other districts from their dashingly heroic rebellious activities, your friend Kitty gets a pretty high score."

"Should I be worried?" Kurt laughed. "Should I get my swords to defend my best friend from your best friend?"

"I think you're okay," Kate laughed. "There were other girls ahead of her."

"Oh?"

"Like me, for one thing," Kate said.

"Oh, well that's perfectly understandable," Kurt said, nodding seriously. "No one can hold a candle to you."

Kate could feel her cheeks turning red and her heart beating faster. She _loved_ this feeling. She loved how her stomach fluttered and her cheeks flushed and she could barely figure out what to _do_ with herself. It was the kind of lost that she didn't mind feeling, because everything that came with it was… well… nice.

"I don't remember you being this much of a flirt in the Games," Kate said. When Kurt's smile slipped slightly, she shook her head quickly. "Don't _stop_ ," she said. "I think it's sweet!"

"Oh good," Kurt said, giving her hand a little squeeze.

"And besides, my memory isn't the best," Kate said. "For all I know, you were this much of a flirt before, and I just didn't catch on."

Kurt laughed and shook his head. "I think you're just seeing the difference a year makes," he said. "Especially a year spent wondering if you were even alive and thinking of how different things could have been if you'd been brought back by SHIELD."

Kate's smile fell. "Yes. Well."

Kurt frowned when he saw Kate's reaction, and he leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead. "I'm glad you're alive, Kate. The how and the why don't matter to me."

Kate gave him a small smile for that one. "Flirt."

"Making up for lost time," he corrected her. Then, when Kate's smile didn't return in force, he took it one step further and picked her hand up to kiss the back of it. "Is it working?" he asked, barely picking his head up so that he was only looking up at her with his eyes, still close enough to her hand that he could have kissed it again.

Kate blushed deeply but didn't try to pull her hand back from Kurt. "Maybe," she admitted, and when Kurt smiled at that, a girlish sort of giggle escaped her lips.

No one had ever made Kate feel like this. Sure, she'd had a little crush on Tommy when she first joined the group in Twelve, and she definitely had thought Noh was cute, but… Kurt was something else entirely. Even when he was physically affectionate with her, it wasn't like it had been in Hydra, with Kilgrave, all desperation as she'd tried to do what _he_ wanted. Kurt made it a point to _ask_ Kate what she wanted, and he made it a point to do little things like rub his thumb on her knuckles or press gentle kisses to her hair and head.

He made _her_ happy. And Kate didn't have the words to explain how new that was. How scary it was at the same time that it felt so _good_.

She leaned over to rest her head on Kurt's shoulder, content to stay there and soak in the perfect weather and perfect company. And when Kurt kissed the top of her head, she couldn't help but smile again. She liked that he did things like that. She liked being _cared_ for. Cared about.

She knew Kurt wasn't the only one who cared about her. She knew, for example, that Sin considered her a _sister_. More than just a friend. And that meant the world to Kate, even if Sin was still on a mission, out there giving her father the middle finger like she'd said she would. And Natasha was part of the big group that had gone out to Four, so Kate hadn't seen her since Logan had dragged her back to District Twelve.

She missed her friends. Even if they had been part of Hydra, they had been the only good parts of her life for an entire year, and she missed them.

Sometimes, she wondered if seeing them again would be more complicated, though. She knew that Charles and Raven both had helped her get Hydra's conditioning out of her head, but there were still times that she forgot to hate Hydra. It wasn't as easy as snapping her fingers and turning back into the Kate she used to be, after all.

Maybe seeing those two again would put her back in that Hydra mindset. Kate didn't know for sure. She _hoped_ that wouldn't be the case, because she did love them. Deeply. But still...

"What are you thinking about?" Kurt asked, breaking Kate once more out of her thoughts.

She smiled at that and leaned deeper into him. She wasn't sure how much Charles had told Kurt, but she _did_ know that he was doing an excellent job of keeping her from getting lost in her own head.

 _There be dragons,_ she thought to herself with a smirk.

And it worked, really. Kurt would draw her out of her thoughts, pull her attention back to something _worth_ paying attention to. She appreciated that.

"I was just thinking about my friends," she said. "I know everyone's busy with the war, but I haven't seen Sin and Natasha…"

"I'm sure they'll both come to find you when they get the chance," Kurt said. "They're worried about you."

Kate nodded slowly. "I hope they do," she said at last before she picked her head up again and let out a breath. "Do you mind if we walk around again? I'm getting a little lost again." It was hard for her to admit, but Kurt _had_ told her that he would help her. And she believed him when he said it.

Kurt nodded and pulled Kate to her feet. "Would it help if we climbed a tree and talked about the relative cuteness of each of our friends?" he teased.

She couldn't help but laugh at that as she took his hand. "Would you really?"

"If it would cheer you up," Kurt said with a crooked kind of smile.

"But what if you get jealous?" she asked.

Kurt shook his head and made a scoffing noise. "Impossible," he said. "I'm the cutest. I have it on good authority."

Kate laughed outright and threw her arms around Kurt in a hug. "You really are."

Kurt was grinning as Kate stepped back from the hug. "I love you, Kate. You know that, right?"

Kate nodded. She wasn't entirely sure that she understood it, and she was still trying to _believe_ it, but she did know that he meant it when he said it. And really, the rest would come. She knew it would. And one day, when she believed it, when she was confident enough in her own mind to know that she meant it, she would say it back to him.

Kurt gave her hand one more squeeze before he grinned, dropped her hand, and spun on his heel. "Race you to the climbing tree!"

For a moment, Kate was caught so off-guard that she didn't move — and then she burst out laughing and rushed to catch up with him. "You're such a cheater!"

"It's not my fault you're so slow!" he called back to her.

"You just know you couldn't outstrip me fair and square!"

"I'll let you think that if it makes you feel any better!"

Kate let out a noise of frustration that was more of a laugh than she intended it to be. She couldn't even be mad at Kurt — not just because he was cute but because she was having so much fun.

Kurt was laughing as the two of them raced out of the garden hedges, taking sharp corners and jumping over benches the whole time. Kate couldn't stop laughing either. She'd forgotten how much _fun_ it was to let her competitive side out to play. Even if it was against a _total cheater_.

Kurt beat her to the tree, of course — the product of _cheating_ and longer legs — so he was already partway up when she got there and jumped up to grab the lowest branch and follow him up. She had only just swung one leg over when someone grabbed her ankle and _pulled_.

Kate let out an 'eep' as she went flying backwards — and away from anything she could grab onto — and then found herself looking up at a _disturbingly_ familiar face.

"What's that they say about a bird in the hand?" Creed chuckled over her shoulder as he started to wrap an arm around her middle to keep her from running off. "Pretty bird like you shouldn't be out here unprotected."

But that was just… one step too far for Kate. She had been _recovering,_ and she'd been having _fun,_ and she was so sick and tired of people getting in the way of that — and the next thing she knew, she was taking out all her frustration on one very big and very mean target.

The first thing she did was to throw an elbow into his stomach, and then, when that got him to step back a little bit, she spun in place and followed it up with a kick to his chest to get more distance.

"Little more feisty than I was expectin'," Creed laughed, though he was outright leering at her when she managed to face him.

Kate narrowed her eyes and let out a noise from the very back of her throat before she threw a hard right hook that was honestly faster than Creed had expected. "I'm so—" She hit him again, and the _crunch_ was audible as she broke his nose. "—tired—" She wound up for another hit. "Of men—" She kicked him. "—thinking they can just _walk all over me._ "

"Don't know who you been dealin' with, little girl, but I like a little fight," Creed said as he reached out to try and swat her in the side of the head.

Kate ducked and then popped back up with both fists raised. She could hear Kurt scrambling to get down from the tree as well, but she was mad enough that she didn't care if she had backup or not. Instead, she kicked out, totally going for a groin shot — but he caught her foot and only seemed to grin wider at that, especially when Kate's eyes widened when she could feel pricks at her ankle and realized that he had a glove full of claws on that hand.

"Just keep fightin'," Creed said, seeming to honestly _enjoy_ the fight. "I'm gonna enjoy this, frail."

Kate narrowed her eyes at that. If Charles would have let her have her _bow_ , this wouldn't be a problem and he'd be dead by this point, but no, she had to go hand-to-hand with a seven-foot loser. "Gonna hurt you a lot more than you'll hurt me," she spit out.

"Oooh, I'd like to see that. You been wanderin' around all this time without me knowin' it," Creed goaded her on. "You an' I are way overdue for a little _fun_."

For just a second, that was enough to get Kate to freeze, the too-recent memory of what he'd told Logan in the Games replaying in the back of her mind. But as soon as he smirked and yanked on her to pull her closer, she was angry all over again and fought back _hard_ , even going so far as to bite right through the skin on his hand when he tried to get a better grip on her until he was bleeding from a semicircular arrangement of punctures.

"First real blood to you," Creed said with more of a growl to his tone as he tried to get a solid hold of her hands. "Lucky shot."

Kate grinned up at him with red-painted teeth. "Wasn't lucky. I kill people for a living."

"And I don't need to be paid to kill people," Creed sneered. "I _enjoy it_. But not until I've gotten bored with 'em. An' I'll bet that'll take some time for you, frail."

"Leave her alone!" Kurt had dropped the last few feet from the tree and was already rushing over — though Kate knew he didn't have any weapons on him either. That was Charles' rule. No weapons anywhere Kate could _get to them_.

It was so very, very frustrating.

Kurt rushed in — only to catch a bad hit, with Creed knocking him off of his feet and making him lose his breath while Creed towered over him. But before he could take advantage of Kurt's open defense, Kate rushed in with a move Natasha had taught her, grabbing Creed's arm to use it as leverage to propel the rest of her body up and over, hooking one leg around his neck and using the weight of her body to cut off his breath.

Which worked to distract him from Kurt — but only until he managed to reach behind himself and, after a few attempts, grab Kate and toss her over his shoulder.

Kate was just getting her breath back when Creed stopped and looked away an instant before, very suddenly, there was a crack and a rush of breath — and then Creed wasn't even on his feet anymore, tumbling away from them. When Kate looked up, it was to see that Logan had come out of _nowhere_ and was bare-knuckle brawling with Creed, the two of them moving fast and hitting _hard_.

Kate was absolutely ready to jump right back into the fight, her head pounding with adrenaline and the kind of purpose she hadn't had in a long time, but the spell broke in an instant when Kurt grabbed her arm and pulled her back, looking urgent. She had her arm half cocked to cream him when he grabbed her, but she stopped, breathing heavily when she realized it was _Kurt_.

"You need to get out of here," Kurt told her.

"I can take him," Kate insisted.

"That's not the point," Kurt said rather than argue with her. "Logan's going to need backup, and we can't get close enough." He tipped his head toward the fight, where Kate could see for the first time the long claws in play. "There are a couple Sentinels that came in from dealing with him earlier. They have rifles—"

"That I can use. Yes, good plan," Kate said, nodding and now taking the lead to run back to the house.

"Kate, no, let them—"

"I can totally take him, Kurt," Kate insisted.

"That's not the point!" Kurt said, sounding more exasperated this time. "The point is: _Hydra_ trained you to fight, and you need to know you can _stop_ before you get in there!"

Kate nearly skidded to a stop and spun around to face Kurt. Her chest was heaving, and her eyes were wide as she took in the honest concern on his face.

It felt like she'd been splashed with cold water.

"Right," she said, all of the wind out of her sails as she suddenly found herself on the brink of falling over. "Right. I… right."

Kurt caught her at the elbows, looking so perfectly apologetic she couldn't even get properly mad at him. "I'm sorry, Kate."

"No, you're right. I…" She closed her eyes. She could remember, now, what she told Creed, about how killing was her job. And she absolutely knew why Kurt was worried. That… that had been too easy to fall back into.

"No one's saying you can't fight the good fight, Kate," Kurt said quickly. "We just need to be sure you'll stay on our side. I don't want to see you get lost again."

Kate nodded quietly. "Right," she said, then took a steadying breath. "Right. Let's… get help."

Kurt nodded, taking her hand again as they started to rush back to the house. He was already calling out for help, but all Kate could hear was her own blood rushing in her ears.

 _I have to be careful,_ she thought.

But then, underneath that concern, she also knew something else: It had felt _good_ to get back in the fight. To be doing something. To give it back to a creep who had it coming.

 _I have to be careful,_ she thought. _But I'm not going to sit on the sidelines, either._


	43. Chapter 43: The Best Defense

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Hope everyone had an amazing Valentine's Day! :)**

 **Thank you to the writers who reviewed as well as to our rockstars: Slim Summers2002 (we love Kate and her friends, really), TheRaspberryVigilante41 (we totally agree: Kate has earned this!), and Pelirroja2012 (we have been using 'Kart' personally, but 'Kute' is so dang cute we might have to change it!).**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Three - The Best Defense**

 **James 'Logan' Howlett, 24th Victor and New Shield Director**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 _"The good fighters of old first put themselves beyond the possibility of defeat, and then waited for an opportunity of defeating the enemy."- Sun Tzu_

* * *

Having Vic Sage on the flight back to Seven wasn't really something Logan had been thrilled about — but the guy had proven himself several times over in finding odd patterns in the intel, and Logan wanted to be sure he didn't have far to go to tell the right people when he found something.

He just … hadn't expected it to happen _on the jet._

Logan had been careful to keep his reaction to the news Sage gave him as controlled as possible, but it would have been a lot easier if the people that had been attacked hadn't _meant_ so much to Logan. Eugene Puck — or Judd, as Sage had called him — was a great guy, even if he was a little too ready to fight. And Smitty … well. Smitty had been the closest thing Logan had to a father after his parents died. _Nobody_ had a problem with Smitty. That was going to hurt the district more than Creed had anticipated, Logan was sure.

He read over the reports.… Twoyoungmen had reported an attack sometime before the one that killed Puck and Smitty, but Michael was skilled — very much like Banner was — in how to take someone down piece-by-piece, with surgical precision. So Logan wasn't too surprised that the tribe's shaman had made it out relatively unscathed.

But _Mac._ Logan was sure that he'd reacted more than he should have when Sage so casually mentioned that Mac was his cousin. But for the life of him, Logan couldn't remember if Wayne was of the right mindset to even notice, let alone care. The SHIELD agents on board, though … it was clear they were surprised by that little tidbit. Logan had poured over the reports, but anything about Mac's condition was minimal, and as much as he hated it, he wasn't about to call into the house to find out when he was entirely sure Sage was still listening and watching everything he could.

 _It's not bein' paranoid if they're really out to get you,_ Logan thought to himself as he absently went over the newest information — and flight tracking — for Grayson's group, with Skye bringing up everything in the usual order. She really was good at her job in a way that made it clear that the whole computers thing was like breathing for her. And while he didn't entirely _get_ it, it was something else to see in action.

Logan was getting more keyed up the closer they got to Seven, and when Skye offered it, he took the computer for a moment — just long enough to compose his response to Viper: _When and where?_

"That's very to the point," Skye said quietly as Logan sent it.

"No reason to give myself room to screw up an' tip her off," Logan replied, then met her gaze as he slid the laptop back to her.

"Are you sure you should—" Skye cut herself off when Logan turned her way more fully. "I know. Right. I'll just … I'll need to bring—"

"You're not goin' with me on that run," Logan told her.

"You'll need intel—"

"You can send it to the plane."

"But it's my _job_ —"

"Then you're relieved of that duty," Logan said with a bit more force. "Stick to intelligence. You don't need to feel responsible for anything that might go wrong on that run."

Skye stared at him open-mouthed for a moment before she found her voice. "No! That's not how this works. You can't just … _reassign me._ "

"Crackerjack, if anyone can reassign you, it's me," Logan argued, holding her gaze and noting that she wasn't blushing this time when he did so.

"Well … just … _no._ Not until I hear it from Coulson or May."

"He's being reactive," Bruce cut in. "And emotional. Don't listen to him until we can sit down and discuss it."

"Not how this works," Logan said, shifting his focus to Bruce. "And you know it."

"None of us are going to listen to your redirects while you're clearly compromised. Wait until we get to the house on the hill and you can see for yourself what kind of state Mac is in. It wouldn't hurt for you to hear from Jim Gordon what happened, either."

Logan was well beyond irritated, especially when it was also very clear that Bruce was right. But he knew what the next step was going to be with Viper, and with Skye insisting she was his bodyguard … he didn't want her taking it personally when Logan inevitably found himself dead or dying. "Fine. I'm not changing my mind on this, though."

"I'm sure. But it can wait until you have all the facts — and freer access to Agents Coulson and May, along with everyone else you set up to act as a council," Bruce said. "You had the foresight to give yourself checks and balances, James. Use them."

Logan turned to Skye, who was very clearly in total agreement, and with a sigh, Logan nodded once. "Doesn't change anything." He didn't want to lose what little focus he had — and worrying about what Skye and Bruce Wayne were thinking wasn't doing him any favors. So instead of devoting energy to that, Logan closed his eyes and did his level best to breathe slower and _focus_ on what he needed to do when he got back the the Howlett Estate.

* * *

From the moment Logan's plane had touched down in Seven, he was in motion. He ignored both Bruce and Skye as he ran from the landing strip right up to the house the back way, through the woods, though other than the path he was taking, he was totally ignoring the safety protocols that were in place to keep him safe. He wasn't really rushing from a place of urgency. It was more that he'd been still for too long — even if the battle in Four had been just what he needed. Not just a fight but a chance to move his body, to feel like he was actually _doing_ something. It felt good just to get his blood pumping.

Logan hadn't expected to _need_ to run, but it was a good thing he had. He'd just gotten through the gate when he heard Creed's unmistakable gravely tone coming from the far side of the hill near the side entrance onto the grounds outside of the gardens. He poured on the speed, with Skye following close behind and shouting for him to _slow down_. He was honestly considering it, too — until he heard Kate's angry voice echoing the grounds and Kurt calling for her to "Wait! Kate, please — _stop!_ "

For a moment, Logan's heart skipped a beat, knowing exactly what Creed had in mind for his old teammates. And after that, he honestly couldn't hear anything but the blood rushing in his ears as he zeroed in on Creed, his hands in fists as he ran harder.

The monster had Kurt on the ground. Kate was doing a helluva good job of keeping him more or less at bay, but Logan knew firsthand … that wasn't easily done without something to equalize the fight a little bit. And watching him, Logan could see Creed was holding back.

Logan tightened his fists, and without thinking about it, he felt the little click that told him his wrists were perfectly lined up to his arms. He made a harder push just before he _dove_ at Creed, leading his attack with a hard right hook.

Logan didn't see what happened with Kate or Kurt, but he grimly smirked when he felt Creed's jaw break under his fist. It didn't last long, of course — not when Creed wasn't down and out — and as Logan drew back to hit him again, Creed returned the favor with a hard right that knocked the wind out of Logan and sent him sprawling face-down on the lawn.

"'Bout time you got here. You didn't think I'd _forget you_ , didja, Runt? " Creed snarled out as Logan started to get to his feet. Kurt was moving with Kate's help, but before Logan got upright, Creed got a hold of his ankle — and Logan felt five punctures at once. He let out a cry of pain as Creed dragged him backward, and when Logan turned, he saw the sharp, curved lion's claws on the ends of Creed's gloved fingers. "Where ya goin' now? Can't take off when the fun's just startin!" Before Logan could get up, Creed once again yanked hard to draw Logan closer to him and delivered a kidney punch that staggered Logan. "Ha! What the hell, boy? Didn't you see that comin' with all yer fancy SHIELD backin'? Come on, ya worthless little fireplug — gimmie a _real_ fight!"

Logan kicked out, landing the heel of his foot just above the outside of Creed's knee, earning himself a shout of pain from Creed. Creed backed away as Logan finally got the room to stagger to his feet, his lip curled back as he caught his breath. The leg Creed had cut up was bleeding enough that Logan could feel blood running down his ankle and into his boot. "You don't know what you're askin' for, Victor."

"Shut up and _let's do this!_ "

"I hoped that with the Capitol off your ass, you'd at least stop bein' such a psychopath," Logan said as the two of them circled each other, both of them in a ready position. "I don't wanna fight you, Vic."

Creed nearly snorted. "Of course you don't. Know you'd lose to your better."

"You don't need to be like this," Logan said.

"Don't try an' do me any favors, Runt. I'm stronger, faster, and better'n you in every way. And there's only _one way_ this is ever gonna end."

"I'm tryin' to give you a chance," Logan shouted at him, frustration clear in his voice.

"What? All that garbage about honor really poisoned your mind, didn't it, boy?" Creed spat. "Thought you knew the score. You an' me, we're different. We're not like them. We're _better._ You an' me? We've got the instincts them high an' mighty types couldn't wrap their pea-brains around. An' you're lettin' 'em use you like a lapdog."

"Vic, you got two seconds to drop the claws or ya better start countin' your last breaths," Logan growled out, drawing himself up as he held Creed's gaze with a solid glare.

For a moment, it looked like Creed might just do that, too. He lowered his hands and drew himself up to his full height towering over Logan, even as he relaxed his shoulders and narrowed his eyes. "You're bluffin'," Creed said finally. "You're scared, ain't ya, boy? Scared for that little frail over there … scared for your buddy that I was tearin' up … _mournin'_ the old man I bled out an' yer buddies on the crew.…" He sneered and started to crouch. "Scared cause ya know you're gonna be the next to join 'em when I tear your throat out."

"Never gonna happen, not by you," Logan replied, his tone almost matching Creed's even as Creed rushed him.

Logan hit him as he ducked the obvious attempt to tackle him, though he really wasn't utilizing any of the extensive training or finesse that he'd learned under Fury's tutelage. It didn't take him long to realize that was his mistake, too. Creed anticipated the dodge, but instead of shifting his focus and grappling, he sidestepped, using his momentum to power a hit to Logan's cheekbone that was hard enough that Logan was seeing stars.

It was enough to tip Logan over the edge, and with a roar of frustration, he let the claws fly with an echoing _snikt_ that sounded overly loud in the clear mountain air. Creed's hidden body armor fell away with a _schrrrip_ as Logan's claws sliced through ceramic and kevlar, barely scratching Creed's belly. Creed's eyes widened as he tried to get further back, the shock at what had happened plain to see on his face. But it also sounded like that was exactly what the monster wanted.

"Hot damn! That's what I'm talkin' about! Been waitin' for you to get that fire in yer belly, boy!" Creed shouted with a satisfied grin a moment before Logan roared in another rush that cut away a large chunk of Creed's long coat and sank a little deeper into Creed's back, earning a hiss of pain. "That's it! Put on a good show for once in yer miserable life!"

When Logan rushed him again, Creed shifted his stance and grabbed a hold of Logan's wrist, pulling him around fast so he could land a nasty hit square to the center of Logan's chest that knocked the wind out of him and staggered him in one blow. He felt his knees wobble at the force of the hit and, as he gasped for air, he stumbled.

The sound of Creed rushing toward him again had Logan dropping down flat and reaching out to take a wild swipe that caught Creed's leg not too differently than Creed's lions' claws had done to Logan. Logan hadn't cut as deeply as he wanted, but it was enough to screw up the angle on the kick Creed was aiming at Logan's bent-over form.

" _Ngggh._ Hey!" Creed let out a bellow of pain and put some distance between them, which gave Logan the chance to get to his feet at least, and the two men once again shared a glare of hatred as they caught their breath. "That was a cheap shot, kid. I finally did it, eh? I pushed you over the edge — past your precious _honor_."

"Vic, you couldn't make me do a damn thing," Logan replied, though it was clear both of them needed the breath, even as both of them were shaking out their hands and tightening fists as they circled.

"Focus!" The shout came from near the house, and Logan only spared a glance for a second to see Bruce Wayne looking more than a little alarmed. "Don't let him push you."

"Now you're takin' advice from _Wayne_?" Creed said with a laugh. "You got all kindsa old men interested in tuckin' ya in at night, don'tcha?"

Logan glared a little harder at that, but he could still hear Bruce Wayne's shouts telling him to pull it together. And then, of course, when Victor saw that Logan was starting to actually _think_ , it was clear Victor wasn't going to let Bruce Wayne, of all people, ruin his fun. With a roar, he charged Logan — only to look positively shocked when Logan sidestepped him and took a more offensive position, far more focused and cool-headed.

As Creed passed him by, Logan blew a breath out from between his lips and shifted his hands from fists to prepare for palm strikes as he transitioned into a more disciplined stance.

"Thought you were gonna try to nail me, boy, but you're really trying to — _nghh_!" Creed was cut off when Logan hit him hard in the solar plexus with a palm strike, knocking the wind out of him in one solid hit. Before Creed could get away from him, Logan directed two precise kicks just above the outside of Creed's knee, dropping him _hard_ as the tendon holding Creed's knee together simply snapped.

"Makes sense that you'd use that … kung fu garbage," Creed snarled out. "What's wrong? Can't fight square?"

"You've never had a square fight in your _life_ ," Logan replied evenly as he watched Creed cringing in pain.

"Don't get soft on me now, boy … 'course … that lines up with what they used to say about your pa, don't it?"

Logan glared down at Creed and then let his hands ball up into fists as he drew himself up and lined his wrists up with an inaudible click. He'd had more than enough of Victor's abuse and venom. A moment later, the claws on his right hand were out again with that same _snikt_ as Logan started toward Victor.

"Is there _anything_ left of you in there that's _human_ , Creed? Anything even pretendin' to have a soul?" Logan asked, taking a steadier stance near him. "This has to end between _us_ … and for whatever reason, I've still got enough honor left in me to offer you _one_ chance to stop me."

Creed looked past Logan to the line of SHIELD agents, old tributes, and what was left of Seven's Sentinels. With the last of his energy, Creed surged, tackling Logan backward as he retracted the claws. But if Sabretooth had expected to win — even in a wrestling match where Logan was badly out of his weight class — then he was sadly mistaken.

Logan's focus held, and he used every trick he knew to fight back hard until he had pushed Creed back in a pin and pressed his fist under Creed's chin, releasing the two outer claws and letting the third press up into the soft flesh at Creed's neck. For a long moment, the two of them stayed just like that, breathing heavily in the rush of the moment.

Bruce Wayne and James Gordon made their way closer, both of them obviously unsure of what they were going to see or hear, since it was clear that neither of the fighters were dead. But … Bruce and Gordon managed to get close enough to hear it when Creed started talking again in a graveyard rasp that echoed exactly how insane Sabretooth was.

"Ya punkin' out on me, short stuff?" Creed growled out as Logan met his gaze and held it.

"You're under arrest, Creed," Gordon said with as much authority as he had left in him, but it was clear Creed wasn't paying attention to James Gordon in the least.

"You let me walk, boy, and I _swear_ I'll track down every livin' thing you ever cared about one way or another … Jubilee … your buddies from the Games … Jessica Drew … Quill …your cousin … the Wayne brats… not to mention that pretty lil' SHIELD agent that's been moonin' for months now … an' I'll make 'em _suffer_ a good long time before I kill 'em. They're gonna _beg me_ ta let 'em die."

Logan's eyes had gone wide, and he'd missed the fact that both Gordon and Bruce had gone still at the threat.

"You ain't never had the stones to get heavy on me, boy. And you never will. I'll just keep comin' back an' makin' sure you never have anyone that'll ever be close, no one that'll ever give a damn, cause you know what, Runt? You an' me — _we're the same_. And you know it deep down. _That's_ why you won't kill me. You can't take out the one person that knows you better'n anyone ever could."

 _Snikt!_

It only took an instant for the claw to pop into Creed's skull as Logan held his breath.

 _Snakt!_

Gordon let out a low whistle at the scene, though Logan was still frozen to the spot, perched over Creed's still body. "That's one way to deal with the problem."

Logan didn't have anything to say as Bruce pulled him to his feet. "Good focus," Bruce was saying. "I'm just sorry he pushed you to that point."

Logan didn't make a sound, even as Gordon called back to the house for help dealing with the body on the lawn. His ears were ringing as Barbara and Scott rushed out to help.

"What… what happened?" Scott asked, wide-eyed.

"Nothin," Logan said finally, still clearly trying to catch his breath.

"Yeah, well, Mac's in the same boat with a swollen throat and 'I'm fine' all over the place, so if your whole family could try to avoid suicide by Victor Creed, I would appreciate it."

Logan slowed to a stop at that and looked Scott over closely. "Who told? Was it Heather or Mac?"

"Mac. In a manner of speaking," Scott said. "Creed came at him, Mac fought back, and apparently, you both have the same 'switch' when you get mad."

"Big blonde dumbasses, yeah," Logan tried to joke, but his tone wasn't jovial in the least.

"Sure," Scott said, though before he could elaborate on the earlier fight, Skye had rushed over looking furious — and grabbed Logan's other arm to help Scott direct him into the house.

"It's fine," Logan said before Skye could argue it.

"You're an idiot — and you look like hell!"

"You just now noticin' I look like hell?" Logan said, pushing to get both of them to let him go. "I'm fine."

"Shut _up_. I'm supposed to keep you from dying, so just… let me do my job," Skye said.

"That must be the worst job in SHIELD. What did you do to deserve that?" Scott asked with a smirk.

"Reformed terrorist," Skye said without missing a beat. "And you?"

"I'm just here to make sure the kids in the district don't get wrecked in the crossfire."

"Lemmie go," Logan told them both, jostling to get their hands off of him, though he knew he really didn't have the strength to fight them. "I got it. You two can compare notes somewhere else."

"No," they said, in stereo.

"You're not helpin' the kids if you're irritatin' me," Logan said to Scott before he turned to Skye. "And you ain't gonna get fired. So just give me some damn space."

But by that point, both of them were simply ignoring him — at least until they got up to the house and met up with Barbara Gordon, who was already pointing them to the medical setup they had in the house.

About half a second after Logan finally managed to get Scott and Skye to let him walk there on his own, he turned the corner to barely hear a "Kate, no," a split second before Kate had rushed right to him and threw herself at him.

Logan absolutely wasn't prepared for it, and when she latched on to him, he couldn't get his feet under himself fast enough. Which was how the two of them went over backward, with Kate still holding tight.

Skye swore and was reaching for her sidearm when Logan held up a hand her way. "Hold your fire, crackerjack."

"This is _not_ like Banner in the lab," Skye hissed, looking at Logan like he was crazy.

But… Kate hadn't actually done anything except latch on, and after a second, and a beat of tense silence, everyone in the hallway heard a very quiet, "Hi, Logan."

"Hey, Kate," Logan replied softly, though he hadn't made a move to touch her more than to be sure she wasn't _hurt_ in the fall. His head was killing him, and he really just wanted to get away from all the people that just … kept… _coming_.

Kate finally picked herself up a bit and looked like she was going to say something — and then simply threw her arms around Logan in what was now much more obviously a hug. "I'm so, _so_ sorry," she blurted out. "I shouldn't have tried to kill you. I didn't know — I shouldn't have listened—"

"Knock it off; you got nothin' to apologize for," Logan said roughly.

"I heard what he sent you," Kate said urgently. "In the Games."

"Doesn't matter. He's dead now."

"He wasn't _ever_ going to get a chance to touch me, though; let's get that straight," Kate said, a little sharper, as she picked her head up. "I could have taken him if Charles would let me have my bow."

"Yeah," Logan said, frowning a little to himself as he thought it over. "That's a problem."

Kate looked almost surprised for a second before she recovered and looked more defiant and confident in herself. "You're darn right it is."

"It was between us. And it's my fault you were pulled into it," Logan replied. It was hard to express properly what it was that Creed had said that finally tipped Logan over the edge, even though Bruce Wayne and Jim Gordon had heard it too.… Even thinking about it had Logan _numb_ all over. That's what Creed had admitted to. It was on him. Guilt by association. People had died at Creed's hands, and it was only because they'd been friendly to Logan. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to push back the sick feeling at the pit of his stomach.

"Um, no, he crossed me too. This is a shared creep," Kate said.

"You gonna be mad at me for the kill, Trickshot?" Logan pressed, knowing from Charles that him even saying the old nickname might be enough to get her to attack him. And he wasn't sure, but maybe that's what he wanted.… At any rate, he couldn't tease. Not in this mood. Not when he could _feel_ the sorrowful expression on his features and the weight of what had happened pressing him down to the point he wanted to just …

"I haven't decided yet," Kate said almost thoughtfully, looking over her shoulder to where Kurt was paused nearby, holding his breath watching the two of them. She let her shoulders drop and then turned back to Logan to wrap him up in a much gentler hug than the tackle had allowed her. "I'm sorry I believed what the Capitol told me. I know you wouldn't have really killed Kurt," she said, softer this time.

Logan let out a very tired-sounding sigh and wrapped her up in a bear hug, relieved that at least she was leaning into it rather than fighting him. That … was as good a sign as any, he was sure. "I guess none of that matters anyhow."

"It does to me," Kate said into his shoulder. "The truth matters to me."

"Good," he said, whisper quiet, though the fact was, now that there was some distance, he realized that he didn't feel bad about killing Creed. There wasn't even a whisper of remorse anywhere in him, and that … that had Logan wondering how right Creed was. "You were doin' alright before I showed up." As the words left his lips, he suddenly wondered exactly _when_ he was talking about, and how much it applied to everyone else around him as well.

"Yeah … and … I have Kurt," she said, looking back at Kurt, who was still watching them closely.

Logan nodded as he watched Bruce Wayne coming down the hall with a frown. "Yeah, I know," Logan said. "Is that all you got backin' you up? No offense, Elf."

"None taken, _mein Freund_ ," Kurt replied softly, though he was frowning at Logan hard, and as always, Logan couldn't help but wonder how much the Elf knew about what was going on in his head. Kurt's intuition was just … overly impressive; and he knew his poker face hadn't come back yet with the gamut of emotions he'd been rushing though.

"Well, no. I've got my crew," Kate said slowly.

An idea crossed Logan's mind, and all at once, he could at least feel some of that tenacious focus coming back together. He bit the inside of his lip thoughtfully as he glanced up at Bruce. "How ya think Helena's doin'? Might have a job for her if she's feelin' mean enough."

"I'm sure she's feeling plenty mean," Bruce said, though he was watching Kate, and Logan _thought_ he looked as if he wanted to say … something.

Logan worked over the inside of his lip and turned back to Kate, his decision already made. "You ready to shoot somethin', Katie?"

"Oh yes," Kate said, real excitement in her tone.

"Logan," Kurt said softly.

"Whatcha worried about, Elf?" Logan said seriously. "She's doin' alright. Besides, I'm pretty sure I need mid-range shooters." He gestured to Kate. "So … Helena, Clint, maybe both of the Queen kids if they can find Thea's brother quick enough and get 'em both here … and Kate, of course."

"Oh, good. I need to hang out with Clint again," Kate said delightedly. "I haven't seen him in ages!"

Logan turned toward Kurt and raised an eyebrow as if that was really all that needed to be said — ever.

"Logan, that's not a good idea," Bruce cut in, even if it looked like speaking up had caused him some kind of physical malady. "Thea Queen is here, though I'm not sure _she_ should be going on any missions either."

"Doesn't mean I can't offer her a spot'," Logan said as he twisted to look up at Bruce. "It's a sound idea that'll work."

"It's a _bad_ idea to bring along a former enemy operative who is only just past the point of wanting to _kill_ you."

"Tasha and Sin've been runnin' stuff since they showed up. Kate's been workin' through her trouble," Logan said. "It'll be _fine._ " He took a hold of Bruce's offered hand so he could pull himself upright, though the change in position had Logan more than a little dizzy. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"Ooh, you should introduce Helena to America. She's a _nine_ ," Kate cut in, obviously trying to both distract everyone and cut the tension so she could go with the team. It was that clear.

"Says your frizzy-haired, girl-crazy buddy," Logan muttered. The dizziness began to shift to a headache, which had Logan trying to shake the cobwebs out.

"She'd be a ten, but America doesn't like being shorter."

"Yeah, yeah, too tall, I've heard," Logan replied. "Said damn near the same thing about Kory — and Harley was short enough but too blonde."

"Can we please go back to the part where you want to take your would-be murderer on a mission?" Skye cut in.

"You're right," Logan said as he let out a breath that had both Skye and Bruce relaxing. "She can't do that until she goes to the range. C'mon, Trickshot. It's time to get your bow," Logan said, turning to Kate. "Stark's workin' up some arrows already. It'll blow the doors off of anything you've tried before."

"I can shoot anything you give me," Kate said with a confident grin, getting to her feet to rush over to Kurt, bouncing on her toes. "Right, Kurt?"

Logan smirked, but Bruce and Skye began to push him toward medical. "Hold that thought," Bruce said over his shoulder. "This might be head trauma talking."

Kate let out a breath at that. "Of course it is," she said, obviously deflated.

"It's _not_ ," Logan insisted as they continued toward the lab and Skye gestured for Kurt and Kate to come along. "I'm pickin' who I want — and if she wants to go, then you can bet your ass I want her watchin' my six. God knows I'm gonna need the backup."

"For what, exactly?" Kurt asked. "If you need backup, you know _I_ will come."

"Viper," Bruce said with a hard tone.

"You can't go, Elf," Logan said, pressing his palm against one eye as he closed his eyes tighter. The headache was getting progressively worse and fast — and whether he wanted to admit it or not, he knew it was obvious he'd been banged around pretty good. "Wrong qualifications." He felt Bruce's hand on his shoulder tighten.

"I can't go," Kate said suddenly — which was enough to shock Kurt into turning her way.

"Why the hell not?" Logan asked, stopping hard enough that Bruce almost tripped trying to avoid bumping into him. "It's a simple run."

"It's Viper," Kate said.

"You scared of her?" Logan asked, letting his tone drop quieter. The truth was that he didn't know if it was just Kilgrave that Kate had to obey, and he wouldn't be surprised one bit if Viper had done something to her.

"I … I answered to her," Kate said, hedging a bit and scuffing one foot against the other.

"You wanna answer to her now?" Logan asked gently as he shrugged Bruce's hand off his shoulder.

"Not when I'm _thinking_ ," Kate said.

"Would it help if I told you what happened between me an' her in the Capitol?" Logan asked, taking a step toward her, his stomach feeling like lead as he made the decision to tell her no matter what she said.

"I know she was mad that I tried to kill you…"

"You don't know why," Skye said, cutting in, clear outrage in her tone. "I'm sure she didn't advertise to her minions _why_ she'd be mad about that."

Logan tipped his head toward his very angry bodyguard and couldn't help but point out the obvious, though the emotion behind Skye's reaction had him watching her a little closer. "Skye's still pissed about it. Apparently."

"I see that," Kate said.

"She _drugged_ him," Skye said, her eyes flashing. Logan blinked a few times as he watched her rage. As the bright red bloomed high on her cheeks, he wondered if Skye realized how much of her cards she was showing just then. "And once he was out of his senses, she dragged him back to her place for her own _entertainment_. And now she wants to _keep_ him."

"Oh." Kate blinked at Logan, long and hard.

"Pretty common practice in the Capitol," Logan said low, really intending it just for Kate but suddenly very aware of the fact that both Bruce and Kurt were staring at him just as intently as Kate was.

"Common in Hydra, too," Kate whispered back, unconsciously wrapping her arms around herself.

"Wasn't just me. Happened to all the victors," Logan added, giving her a significant look and doing his best to ignore the sensation of Kurt and Bruce staring at him openly. "You dodged a nasty bullet. I know you got hit with one anyhow, but at least it wasn't open to anyone with the cash."

Kate shook her head. "I.…" She bit her lip. "I _want_ to kill her for that. That's a good use of what I can do. It is. But, Logan.…"

"If you want to go, you'll be close to Clint," Logan said evenly. "If you don't want to — or think you can't do it — I'll find someone else. I won't _make_ you do anything. But if I got a say in it, I'd rather have the _better_ Hawkeye watchin' my back."

Kate gave him a surprised sort of smirk at that. "Well, if Clint is there…"

"You _can't_ go in yourself, Logan," Skye cut in, sounding scandalized.

"That's exactly what she wants," Bruce agreed.

"No kiddin. And when I do go in, she'll be too focused on getting what she wants to pay attention like she should," Logan said. "That's one thing about her you don't know. She gets hyper focused on something and misses the bigger picture. It's _her_ flaw, tactically speaking. Gets caught up in the rush."

"You know what she'll do to you if she has even a _chance_ ," Bruce said.

"That's not gonna happen," Logan said in a tone that said it was already a done deal.

"Dammit, James, you can't put your life on the line just because it's _easy_ ," Bruce snapped back.

"Not because it's _easy_ ," Logan replied with just as much heat. "I'm doin' it because it's our best shot to end this faster. When Sin took out Schmidt, they lost some steam. Not everyone wants to follow Viper, and a good chunk of their support _left_. They don't have anyone solid to pick up the slack if she steps out. And if she thinks she's bulletproof, or that she's got an edge on me, then guess what? It's _time._ "

"But _we_ still need _you_ ," Bruce said. "Even after she's gone, there will be factions fighting for control. It will be more than one front. An all-out war. We can't lose the director that's held us together when that happens."

"There's at least half a dozen people I can think of off the top of my head that're more qualified and want the damn job if anything goes wrong," Logan said. "But it won't."

"Because you have such good backup," Bruce said dryly.

"I won't let Viper do that to him," Kate said, her eyes narrowed

"None of my backup will let her get a hold of me," Logan said.

"Logan," Kurt said softly, "are you sure about this plan? All of it?"

For a moment, Logan had to stop himself from really speaking his mind, and neither Kurt or Bruce missed it. "It's tactical."

"For you or her?"

"I guess that depends on how it pans out" Logan conceded.

"It's risky," Kurt said, glancing once more toward Kate. "Not just for you, _mein Freund_."

"Kate'll have Clint. You know he won't let anything bad happen to her," Logan said. "She's _his_ priority for this mission."

"See?" Kate smiled at Kurt. "I've still got a babysitter. I'll tell you all about it." She squeezed his arm and then nodded Logan's way. "I know I'm not reliable," she warned.

"That's a bald-faced lie, Hawkeye," Logan said low.

"We'll see," she said just as low.

Logan held her gaze, even as Bruce cut in. "We'll discuss this in more detail later. Right now, you need to be attended to. As I understand it, you walked into that fight with more than a few bumps and bruises already."

"She's exaggerating," Logan grumbled, even as Skye shook her head.

"I know what I saw, and I know I only got you battlefield treatment because I was the one that patched you up," Skye said. "And then you came home and got Sabretooth blood in your wounds!"

"Okay, fair point," Logan said, even as his boot squished with blood. "I'll behave for medical, okay?" With that, Bruce once again put his hands on Logan's shoulders and steered him down to the large room where medical had been set up. As he promised, he didn't fight them on any of it — though he could see that Bruce was just waiting for Simmons to step out so they could 'talk'. Thankfully for Logan, Simmons was quick.

It didn't take her long to give Logan a once-over, but after she got him out of his shredded clothes and bloodied boots, Simmons was sure to set him up with an IV pole and a few meds to make him relax.

Bruce was sure to close the door behind him to the smaller room they'd directed Logan to for a bit more privacy before he took a seat. "We need to talk about your plan, James," Bruce said. "I know what you're thinking, and it's reckless. If you're wrong about Viper, even a little, you'll be dead rather than just captive. Even if she doesn't touch you, I know about the darts — I read the reports."

Logan held his gaze for a long moment before he spoke up. "I'm takin' precautions—"

"Asking the girl that tried to kill you to cover your back isn't a precaution."

"She's not gonna be my only backup."

"You can't expect Helena and the other archers to be enough."

"I don't," Logan said thickly as the sedative Simmons had given him started to really kick in.

Bruce stopped at that and was visibly holding his breath. "Who?"

But Logan shook his head solemnly as his eyelids got heavier. "Doesn't matter; I'll take care of it before I go. Take care of _everyone_ before I go. I'm good for my word. You oughta know that by now." Bruce looked ready to argue, but before he could, Simmons was back with a new collection of medications for Logan. Before Bruce could open his mouth to tell her to wait, she'd already given Logan a little adjustment to the IV and a shot in the arm that had him slipping off to sleep _fast_ while Simmons worked on dressing his wounds.


	44. Chapter 44: Rest and Recreation

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're back to check in on how our sweet Nightwing is doing. (Spoiler: he's been through the wringer.)**

 **Thank you to our writers who continue to support each other and generally be amazing human beings ;) Thanks also to our regulars! Slim Summers2002, we loved the fight scene too! Malfoy'sNimbus: The Hawkeyes don't really do that kind of thing. They just both appreciate each other's awesomeness and don't care about rankings, especially since they both have such different life experiences. TheRaspberryVigiante41: We love that you're seeing call-backs to ITEYAK! That reunion was totally a LONG time coming. And we hear you: Logan really does need to take care of himself too.**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Four - Rest and Recreation**

 **Dick Grayson, formerly of District Seven**

 **The Howlett Estate**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Home is where children find safety and security, where we find our identities, where citizenship starts. It usually starts with believing you're part of a community, and that is essential to having a stable home." -Matthew Desmond_

" _In your arms, I know where I belong  
I've never known this feeling before but it feels like home"  
\- LeAnn Rimes, "Feels Like Home"_

* * *

Dick was glad to see District Seven again.

He hadn't seen it since he was Reaped, but now, looking out the window of their transport as they made their descent, it felt like at least _some_ of the weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

He felt like crap, he was in a transport with the girl that had murdered him, his sister and girlfriend were hurt, and he had Jason's scared little brother with him — but at least he was home. That was something.

"There are so many trees."

Dick turned to see that Tim was staring out the window in near-awe. He looked the worst out of anyone in the transport, with obvious signs of torture all over his skinny body, but that didn't seem to have done a thing to diminish the awe and wonder in his expression as he tried to take it all in.

Dick shook his head to himself. He still wasn't over the fact that Jason had a brother — and he _definitely_ still wasn't over the way the kid had been held over Jason's head this whole time.

But Dick wanted to look out for the kid now, especially because he hadn't been able to save Jason. It wasn't just an obligation; it was the best thing he could do to make sure Jason's death wasn't the total screw-up that it really had been.

"Welcome to District Seven," Dick said with a little smile. It was easier to push aside how much he personally felt like crap when he had someone to focus on, so making Tim feel welcome? It was just as good for Dick as it was for Tim.

"Your home," Kory said. She hadn't left his side, and it hadn't escaped Dick's notice that she had taken a clearly defensive posture between him and Ivy; but he appreciated that she could put that aside and look out the window with him. "It's beautiful."

"I've never seen that many trees in my life," Tim said.

Dick shook his head. Listening to this kid talk… He just sounded so small. Like Gar. And it was nothing short of a miracle that this little boy had been through everything Hydra dragged him through and came out with that much innocence still intact.

He just wished he'd known Tim needed help sooner. He could have _done_ something.

"After our doctor has patched you up, I can take you climbing," Dick offered, which had Tim lighting up like a Christmas tree. "It's my favorite thing to do — especially when I'm not feeling great about life."

"You're not going to spend all your time hiding in the trees," Helena said. Her tone probably would have been sharper, but when Dick looked up at her, he could see the honest concern there and dropped her gaze all over again.

He didn't know what to do with Helena. He couldn't exactly ease her mind. He didn't _remember_ anything that had happened after she and the other two girls had been dragged off, so he had no idea what Viper had done.

Well, that wasn't true. He had some idea. But if he started to think about that, he felt sick. So he tried not to.

"Well, you will not be hiding in the trees without me," Kory whispered over his shoulder, which at least had Dick smirking and pulling himself out of his thoughts.

He didn't know what he'd do without his sister and Kory watching his back. Especially since he was increasingly convinced that he had some kind of sign over his head that said something like, "Please kiss and poison."

Well, that and some kind of sign proclaiming that he was ripe for mind games.

At least he no longer thought he was going _completely insane_ , considering what he now knew: that Jack had been in the SHIELD compound for a while. But it only made Dick feel marginally better that Jack had been running psychological warfare leading up to his total hijacking of their rescue mission — even if it did explain where the rope burns on his wrists had come from. It was… off-putting, to say the least. And he was still trying to wrap his head around … well, all of it. There was a _lot_ to unpack.

"Hey," a voice said in Dick's ear, and he jumped — until he realized it was Helena, looking concerned, though she tried to hide it when he turned her way with some light teasing. "Back on Earth?"

Dick took a deep breath, held it, and then glanced up at Helena. "Yeah," he said. "Just thinking. It happens sometimes."

"Sometimes," Helena said with a quiet smirk.

"Hey, you might be the smart one, but…"

"I'll let you take a swing at the title just this once," Helena teased before she looked around at the others, bit her lip, and leaned in closer to Dick. "Really, though," she said softly, but Dick held up a hand to cut her off before she could get any farther.

"I'm _fine_."

"Dick—"

"Hel." He turned to face her fully. "Not here, okay?"

Helena frowned at that — but considering the occupants of the transport, it wasn't like she could argue. All Dick had to say was he wasn't exactly in the mood to discuss being screwed by _another_ handsy green lady and they both knew she wouldn't be able to fight him on it.

So she simply frowned and nodded — though Dick knew that conversation wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

Still, it at least gave Dick a little time to prepare — or try to — by the time the transport set down at their new headquarters.

When they deplaned, Dick wasn't surprised to see that Bruce was there with Logan. Or that Alfred was right by him. And while Helena went right to hug her dad, Dick broke into a grin and made sure to hug Alfred tight enough to pick him up off the ground.

After all, even with all of the awful that had been going around lately, there was something _good_ about seeing Alfred there. Something that made Dick feel, for the first time in a long time, like there was something like "normalcy" in his life. Something like consistency.

"Missed you," he said when he set the old butler back down, though he was sure that didn't quite cover everything he wanted to say.

"Yes, I see that," Alfred said, though his eyes were twinkling.

Dick grinned and spun around to motion Tim over. "C'mon, Tim. This is Alfred," he said as Tim cautiously made his way toward them. "Alfred, this is Jason's baby brother."

Dick could see the moment the understanding crossed Alfred's expression before it melted into a warmer smile, and it took next to no time before Alfred was already guiding Tim to where someone could look over his wounds and get him fed and cleaned up.

 _That's Tim taken care of, at least,_ he thought, though that in itself had him feeling even worse. _Would have been better if I'd gotten them both out._ He shook his head to himself. _Now's not the time, Grayson,_ he thought. _If Hel catches you feeling sorry for yourself, she's just going to get more worried, and you've already given her a million reasons to have a stroke by age thirty._

He stuck his hands in his pockets, standing apart from Helena and Bruce for the moment before he turned to the last of the welcoming committee. Better to talk to Logan than to his family — at least until he could get a better handle on things. At least with Logan, he could paint on an easy smile.

"Miss me?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," Logan said quietly, nodding slowly as he stepped away from Mrs. Hopkins with a serious expression on his face. "Not enough people standin' on their heads around here." He narrowed his eyes for a moment and let out a breath. "I know it's not your place, but …" Logan tipped his head with a shrug and closed his eyes rather than finish his thought.

"Yeah. It's a nice place," Dick said, looking around with a smirk. He knew that Logan came from the _other_ rich family in the district, and it almost felt like wandering into the other team's dugout at a baseball game.

"How you doin', anyhow?" Logan asked. "Viper's … not. Fun."

Dick's smirk slipped, but he recovered fast and then shrugged. "Well, we didn't get Jason back, but we got Tim, and that's what was keeping him there anyway, so—"

"Yeah, I got that part of the memo," Logan said. "I'm asking about you and what you remember after the drugs started working."

Dick stopped and looked back to where Kory had somehow gotten cornered by an overly enthusiastic Wade talking about some kind of ship that Dick didn't understand. "I'm… fine."

"Again, not what I asked," Logan said before he looked around the room and took a hold of Dick's arm to pull him aside, away from the group. "I know what she gave you, because she hit me with it more than once. So, what do you remember?"

Dick thought for a moment about just shrugging it off before he let his shoulders drop. If Logan had been through it, he'd know if Dick downplayed it. "Nothing," he said.

"And when you woke up and came out of it?"

"Well, if you want to talk about catching Hel…"

"I want to know about you. What you remember — all of it. And I'll tell you how bad it was and how much you might want to freak out or not."

Dick shook his head. "I already told you," he said. "I don't remember anything. I just know about the—" He paused. He didn't want to say it out loud. He was barely holding it together on the flight out; he didn't know what Helena would do if she saw him have a breakdown as soon as they landed. Probably lock him in a room with Charles Xavier and refuse to let him out for anything but food and sleep.

Logan narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, tipping his chin up slightly. "You have no control of yourself when you're on that stuff, ya know," Logan said. "Makes you complaisant. You'll go along with anything, but you don't _talk_. You're not with it enough to even form words or focus on where you are until it starts to wear off. So I _know_ you didn't leak anything."

"That's something, at least," Dick muttered. He had crossed his arms without even thinking about it, automatically pulling into himself.

Logan caught the motion and took a moment to try another angle. "Okay, I get it. You're worried about what happened. Maybe I can help." He took a moment, clearly working out how to phrase it. "How about this? I can tell you that when it was _me_ , the last thing I remember was _Ophelia_ getting overly affectionate in her bar, and then the next thing I knew, I was waking up in her suite looking for my clothes. If you didn't get that far, you're fine."

"Little different circumstances," Dick said. "Came to half-dressed with Kory crying and Helena swearing in the cells."

Logan nodded at that. "If she'd taken it further than just enough to freak you out, she wouldn't have hidden it," he said. "She'd want you to _know_ what she'd done and that she could make you do whatever she wanted." He tapped Dick on the chest. "You just need a decontamination shower."

Dick rolled his eyes at that, though he tried not to show how relieved he felt. "You're hilarious."

"Yeah, hilarious was Peter Quill followin' me off the elevator that mornin' to yell at me for somethin' I couldn't remember," Logan said. "And then him agreein' with Victor Creed. Had a whole suite full of victors thinking I knew what I was doing."

"And all I had was an angry girlfriend and a protective sister."

"Tell your girlfriend and your sister they can relax. Whatever they saw, that was all that happened. I can tell you for a fact that if it had gone farther, you wouldn't have had your clothes in your cell."

"Cold comfort," Dick said, smirking despite himself.

Logan shrugged at that. "Whatever keep you goin'," Logan said as he started to walk away. "Welcome back. Be sure to ask Alfred about his new friend. He can give you the layout real easy."

Dick let out a breath and then reached out to grab Logan's arm. "Hey. Thanks," he said. "I know … this isn't going to make Kory want to kill her any less, but it'll help her stop … hurting."

"Capitol used that drug on the victors often enough. It's common knowledge," Logan said. "Long as you're askin' the right people."

"Yeah. Still." Dick gave him a tight smile. "Peace of mind. Relatively. Still don't know what she _did_ , but ... well... Better to know the limits."

"Seriously, Grayson, get detoxed," Logan said. "You still sound high."

"Try and thank a guy and get insulted. I see how it is," Dick said, shaking his head.

"Just gettin' worried you might throw yourself at me," Logan said as he headed off. It looked like he had stuff to do, anyway, considering his SHIELD shadow was waiting for him at the periphery at the group.

"That _would_ make Kory mad," Dick said, shaking his head to himself, though by that point, Kory had managed to get away from Wade and slipped over his way.

"What would I be mad about?" Kory asked as she slipped her arm through his. It was strange, but it was comforting for her to still do things like that. Sort of a way to wash the taste of Viper out of his mouth — even if he now knew it wasn't as bad as it _could have been_.

"If I looked at anyone but you," Dick said with a smile and kissed her cheek.

Kory smiled at that and pulled him into a gentle kiss. "And are you?"

"Not in a million years," he promised, not even pulling back and speaking against her mouth.

He got lost in Kory for a while after that, simply wrapped up in the feeling of her _being_ there with him. It had been an exhilarating feeling from the very start, and then especially after he got back from the Games, but now, after everything that had happened, it was more… like she was his anchor to reality after every bad guy in the playbook seemed to want to make him question that.

But then, there was a quiet cough, and Dick looked over his shoulder to see that Bruce was standing there with his arms crossed in the doorway. And as much as he'd like to, he knew he wouldn't be able to put off _that_ particular conversation.

Kory frowned when she saw Bruce — and when she saw that Helena wasn't far behind him — but Dick put a hand on her arm and gave her a tight smile. "I'll be right back," he said and kissed her gently. "I… need to go deal with this."

Kory paused, one hand still on his arm, and then let out a sigh and nodded, sneaking one more kiss before she would quite let him go.

Dick was pretty sure that put him in the right mindset to talk to Bruce, because he couldn't help but smile. And he definitely liked the fact that Kory wasn't afraid to assert her claim — even with Bruce right there. Still, he didn't say anything until he had followed Bruce into an empty room. He was expecting to have to go over everything that had happened, give an account of how he'd managed to get himself captured and incapacitated—

And then, all of a sudden, Bruce reached out and pulled him into a hug.

It was such a shock that Dick didn't even return the hug for several long seconds, still trying to figure out _what was going on_. But when he did finally catch up, he threw his arms around Bruce's neck and held on tight.

It was like being a kid all over again. The only times Bruce had ever really _done_ this were when he'd catch Dick when he was younger, still hanging onto a few things from the circus, upset and feeling a little lost in the big house. When that had happened, a solid hug from Bruce had completely enveloped him, and he felt safe — even safer than with Alfred, because Bruce was a quiet promise to make it all _better_ , even if he never said it out loud.

Dick didn't even know what to say. And that in itself was an indicator of just how _bad_ this whole thing had been. When it came to him and Bruce and Helena, Dick had always felt like it was his _job_ to be the voice, the one who said what needed saying. Bruce and Hel ... they were more about action. And that was good. But Dick had always felt like words could be just as powerful.

He just… didn't have those words in that moment.

For a long time, Dick simply left his face buried in Bruce's shoulder. He didn't want to let go, and he didn't want to be the first one to step away. As soon as it was over, he knew Bruce would probably go right back to what he always did. Fighting. Running things. Pretending he wasn't a human being with a heart.

The net result, though, of Dick choosing not to step back was that the hug lasted much longer than either of them entirely expected it to. And it wasn't until Bruce cleared his throat and pushed Dick back at the shoulder to look at him more directly that Dick finally loosened his grip.

He'd _needed_ that. And he hadn't known how badly until just that moment.

Bruce cleared his throat again, which was the clearest indicator Dick had that Bruce was struggling with his own emotions. Not that Dick was doing any better. He was pretty sure he'd just… let go of everything into Bruce's shoulder, but it hadn't been like with Helena, when he'd sobbed until he didn't have anything in him after he'd heard Jack's laughter. This was… quieter. And more, somehow.

"Let's get you looked over," Bruce said at last, though he was still keeping one hand on Dick's shoulder, and Dick could feel his gaze scraping over him, looking for any injuries beyond the most obvious ones.

Dick nodded. He was tired. _Really_ tired.

He didn't even notice that Bruce still had his hand on his shoulder until they were out in the hallway again and headed toward the medical setup in the estate. And then, he only noticed it because Bruce's hand was there when he turned around on hearing a squeal of pure _delight_ that sounded like Kory.

He glanced up at Bruce, who still looked like he wanted to get Dick checked over, but curiosity won out, and he ducked out from underneath Bruce's hand to go investigate… and broke into a grin when he saw what the story was.

It was kind of hilarious to see _Kory_ on the receiving end of a hug that took her off her feet, but that's where she was, with none other than Thea Queen hanging on her neck.

It was the last thing Dick had expected to see — and therefore, it was _exactly_ what he needed to break himself out of the weird sort of semiconscious glaze that had settled over him after Bruce had hugged him.

"Thea?"

Thea looked up from where Kory had tucked her under her chin. "Dick!" she said, breaking into a grin. "You're here too?"

"What can I say? I'm like a bird. Gotta fly home every once in a while or I get cranky."

Thea rolled her eyes at that — but it didn't stop her from rushing to give him a hug. "You look like crap."

"Yeah, well, just had a small dustup with Hydra."

"Me too." A dark expression crossed Thea's face, but when Dick dipped his head to give her a questioning look, she simply looked away and shrugged. "It's been… yeah. Let's just say I'm glad to be done with that crap, huh?"

"No kidding," Dick agreed — a second before Kory decided they were too serious and simply wrapped them _both_ up in a hug from one side.

"Oh, but this is most joyous!" she declared. "We must celebrate the reunion of our full team!"

Dick couldn't stop his grin as he looked over his shoulder at Bruce, who looked simply bemused at the whole situation. "Hey, can't say no to a party," he said. "I sent Alfred with Jason's half-starved little brother. You _know_ he's already got an apple pie planned, if not baked already."

"When he heard you and Helena were in trouble?" Bruce quirked an eyebrow and let the sentiment hang.

"That's Alfred." Dick grinned, feeling a lot more like himself as he turned back to Thea. "What do you say? Dinner's on me — or my butler, anyway?"

"You're such a dork," Thea said, though she was grinning, and Dick took that to mean she was in.

He put his arm around Thea's shoulders and the other arm around Kory's waist. "Got my girls, got my family… yep, I'm pretty set," he declared, which got an affectionate sort of snort out of Helena as the group redirected to get some food.


	45. Chapter 45: So Many Spangles

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We're back, this time with our resident Supergirl, Ophelia Claire! (And Kara, too :P)**

 **Thanks to all of the writers who reviewed. We're loving the push toward happy endings as we take on this final book, so to see the warm reception was lovely. And thanks also to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being the MVP of reviewers. You're the best!**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Five - So Many Spangles**

 **Kara Danvers, formerly of District Five**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written By Ophelia Claire**

* * *

"" _I don't like to give up on people when they need someone not to give up on them." - Carrol Bryant_

* * *

Kara may have been stuck in a mansion, but she knew things. After all, the director of SHIELD was constantly popping in and out of base — if the mansion could be called a base — and she did have a sister who had pretty solid access to the information flow.

And one of the bits of information that she had managed to glean was that while Four had been under attack from Hydra and thankfully subsequently saved, one of the reasons behind that had been that the barrage of SHIELD troops had come from Five and left it pretty much defenseless.

Which meant, of course, that Hydra had immediately asserted their position there.

And Five was where her family was. How big of a target was on the Danvers household, with a resurrected Games tribute and a SHIELD agent as former members of the household?

Not that she assumed either of those things was common knowledge, of course, but one couldn't be too careful with Hydra. They knew a lot of things that were supposed be secret.

Technically, Kara probably wasn't supposed to know about the goings-on in the other districts, but could she really be blamed _that_ much for trying to learn things while she was bored?

(The answer would likely be yes, but she could deal with that later.)

She knew Alex knew. She was tempted to ask Alex if she knew anything about their parents, but then Alex would know about her snooping.

Tricky, tricky…

So all she could do for the moment was pace around the mansion and try and help out as much as she could. Which was… not as much, now that there were suddenly staff members all over who were more than willing to help with anything they could.

Maybe she could find some kiddos for a game of hide-and-seek. Someone had mentioned a library as well — perhaps she could go check that out.

Yeah, the library would do, although her track record with mansion libraries was at 0% so far.

She passed Mrs. Hopkins in the maze of hallways. "Anything I can help you with, Miss Danvers?" she asked kindly.

"Um, no thank you, I was just heading to the library," Kara replied. "It's downstairs on the east side, right?"

"That's right, Miss. Any books in particular you're searching for?"

"I think I'm just going to browse — unless you have any recommendations?" Kara asked.

"Oh, absolutely! Come along now, and while you do, perhaps you could tell me what sort of books you like to read?" Mrs. Hopkins set off in delight towards the library with Kara tagging along behind her.

"So, what strikes your fancy? Romance? Adventure? Mystery?" the housekeeper asked as they walked.

"Um… adventure, maybe mystery, I guess. I read part of this old one at Mr. Wayne's called _The Three Musketeers_ , and that was interesting, but the prose was a little heavy for my taste. Something along those lines but maybe not as heavy," Kara said as they approached the double doors of the library.

Mrs. Hopkins pushed open the doors. "Well, I'm sure we can find something suitable for you!"

Kara hadn't actually been to the library yet, and it was beautiful. There were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lining the walls and sofas scattered about to curl up and read on.

Two people were already doing just that — two of the tributes from the Twenty-Fourth Games were snuggled on one of the couches. Kate was curled into Kurt's side, and Kurt was reading from a book in a soft voice. Kara didn't understand the words that she picked up — it wasn't English. It seemed Kurt wasn't entirely fluent in the language either, stumbling over a word every so often and having to stop and sound it out, but Kate didn't seem to mind. It was clear the two ex-tributes simply loved spending time together, and Kara didn't blame them.

They both glanced up when Kara and Mrs. Hopkins entered. Kara gave them a brief smile and wave, which they returned before Kurt resumed reading.

"All right; let's see what we have, Miss Danvers. We've got some old mystery books over here — _A Study in Scarlet;_ this one's a good one. There's a whole series about this detective. We don't have all of them, but there's a few. Let's see…" Mrs. Hopkins wandered along the shelf. "If you'd prefer something a little spooky, there's a book about a scientist who creates a human and brings it to life, but that might…" She pursed her lips. "…hit a little close to home?" She smiled gently. "Perhaps something a little lighter?" She moved on down the shelf.

"I'll try the mystery," Kara said. "Thank you for helping me choose!" She tucked the book under her arm and headed for the door.

"That's what we're here for, Miss Danvers. I do hope you enjoy it," Mrs. Hopkins replied as Kara walked away.

Kara settled down in the sitting room to begin her mystery. It was intriguing, to say the least — a lighter read for sure than _The Three Musketeers._ She was a couple chapters in when there was a short knock from the doorway.

Kara glanced up to find none other than Logan, looking battered and bruised, leaning in the doorway.

And behind him… someone Kara almost didn't recognize. Close-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and at _least_ a foot taller than Logan.

Steve Rogers.

"Danvers, I know that you know about what's goin' down in Five," Logan said. "So. You up for a little homecomin'?"

* * *

Their "briefing room" was not quite so technical as the one at the base had been; a room had been cleared out, and a table and monitor had been brought in.

Nevertheless, it got the job done, and it was where Kara, Steve, Skye, and Logan were now gathered.

"Five's been overtaken," Logan said. "We pulled our major battalions out to help with Four, and it left our defenses open for Hydra to swoop in and take control. And before ya ask, Four was the more strategic district to protect at the time. It wasn't personal, and it was a losin' battle. Long term, we saved more lives lettin' it go at the time an' Four had a lot of powerful families that brought some benefits to the war, and they've got a lot of warriors that're freed up now to help with the rest of the fight insteada stickin' to their own turf playin' defense."

Kara nodded, though there was a selfish part of her that couldn't help but think: _What about my family?_ But she knew the reach and power of the families in Four, so she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Hydra's taken over a factory and turned it into their headquarters. I'd like for you and whoever you wanna take with you to get in there and ruin their day. Don't worry about knockin' out power anywhere in the districts. As soon as they took Five, Hydra pulled the plug from Marvel's grid and are usin' it internally."

"Are we talking disruption, destruction… anything we want?" Kara asked.

"I mean, I want 'em outta the district as much as you can manage," Logan said, raising one eyebrow. "How you do that is entirely up to you, but I figured the two of you might be motivated to go the extra mile for your home turf."

"You're not wrong," Kara said. "What do we have as far as resources?"

"Transportation and whatever weapons and allies you can gather here for your initial infiltration. Troops are on the way, but it'll take 'em some time to get there. If Hydra's already tryin' to play defense when they show up, all the better," said Logan. He looked at Steve. "I'm sure your girl's gonna want to join the party. America and Kitty'd be good too— and why don't you bring that kid you pulled out of Eight? Miles? He built some weapons that he's been itchin' to try out."

"Will we have a chance to check on our families?" Steve asked.

Kara had been wondering the same thing. Alex hadn't had a chance to go home since the rebellion started, and communication was too dangerous. Even if they were able to check, though, it wasn't like she'd be able to reveal herself to them. With Hydra trying to get their hands on anyone related to the Tahiti program, she couldn't risk her family giving them the knowledge of her whereabouts.

"It's risky," Logan said slowly after a long moment of weighing it out. "But I wouldn't tell you no outright. If you get a chance, you can try. But you can't let anyone know it's you. It'd have to to be observation or very sneaky contact. You'll have to go in full stealth: masks, gear, all of it. Especially in Five. Too many people would recognize you and I don't want a bigger target on 'em if we can avoid it."

Steve nodded. "That's fair. What do we have on intel?"

"Any damn thing you want," Logan replied as he turned toward Skye.

An overhead view of Five appeared on the screen behind Logan as Skye touched the screen of her tablet. "Like Logan already said, Hydra's set up in a factory." The view shifted, zooming in on a factory on the east side of the district center. "They've got a pretty firm hold on the city here. The SHIELD troops already in place were really all that was keeping them from swarming in. Hydra controls every facet of the city's operation, from power to food distribution, and they've upped their threat. So far, citizens in Hydra-controlled districts _had_ been able to go about their day-to-day lives with little to no disruption, but Hydra has decided that that wasn't enough. Five's citizens are forced to stay in their homes. People who leave without permission are sometimes punished... sometimes shot on sight. It's bad." She pressed her lips together and looked at the two of them. "As far as we know, your families are alive. We've been keeping tabs on Tahiti tribute families — but with Five on lockdown, it's gotten harder to do so."

"So we go in, ruin their day, check on our families _if we can_ , get out?" Kara asked. "Sounds fun enough."

"Just remember: we want them out of the district," Skye said. "Take out this factory and as many of them as you can so that the Sentinels have a chance to get the upper hand."

"Because of the increased restrictions on the citizens, it's entirely _possible_ they've pulled back some of their numbers from Five. But if you hit 'em hard enough, our troops'll be able to step in behind your destruction and take over on the numbers fight," Logan added. "So give 'em hell."

"Right. Should be easy, right?" Steve replied with a determined look on his face. He turned to Kara. "I'll go find Peggy and America. You want to grab Kitty and Miles?"

Kara nodded. "We'll get suited up and meet you at the jet in a half hour?"

Steve gave her a two-fingered salute. "You got it."

Thirty-two minutes later (having spent several minutes calming down a _very_ excited Miles), Kara, Kitty, and Miles met Steve, America, and Peggy at the jet. America was looking slightly put out at having to even temporarily give up her beloved denim jacket for the combat gear, but Miles couldn't have been more excited. He was practically bouncing in place, fiddling with the gauntlets on his wrists.

When Kara had first encountered Miles and Gwen, she'd thought they were both around her age, but Miles had turned out to be a few years younger, and it definitely showed. He still had a childlike exuberance that the revolution and war hadn't managed to dull yet — and Kara was afraid it was going to get him hurt.

She pulled him aside as the others were loading up. "I know you're excited to get into the fight, but it's not all fun and games and messing up Hydra's transmissions. People are out there fighting and getting hurt and dying. I can't promise everything will go our way every time, but I can promise that we'll do everything we can to keep you safe, okay?"

Miles nodded.

"And I need you to promise that if things get to be too much for you, you retreat, okay? Get out of the fight, get back to the jet, just hide somewhere. Promise?"

"I promise," said Miles, looking decidedly less bouncy than before.

Kara placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll keep you safe. Don't worry. Now c'mon; let's load up," she said, leading him on board.

It was a quiet ride. Miles was still messing with his gauntlets. Kara still had no idea what they were for, but hopefully, they'd give Miles an edge in a fight. Steve had a shield reminiscent of the one he'd used in the arena. Kitty and America preferred their fists, Peggy had a gun holstered on each thigh, and Kara had her sword and had finally gotten herself a shield again — one that was a bit smaller than Steve's.

Peggy was in the pilot seat up front, and Kitty had taken the copilot's chair. The rest were strapped into seats in the back of the jet. America was taking a power nap while Miles stared out the front window, his leg bouncing restlessly. Steve had moved over to sit next to Kara partway through the ride.

"I'm sorry about Carol," he said softly after a while. "Were you two close?"

"Not really," Kara admitted. "You probably knew her better than I did. I didn't grow up with her — I was adopted when I was thirteen — and she was… busy a lot. She kept secrets too… she trained with someone. I trained with him too, eventually. And then she went off to the Games, and I didn't think I'd ever see her again, and then I finally do… and then she dies." Kara looked down at her hands. "She wanted to make up for lost time. To get to know each other better," Kara said. "It doesn't feel fair to keep missing each other, to _finally_ end up in the same spot, only to have her taken away again."

"Nothing about this is fair," Steve said softly. It wasn't scornful. It was matter-of-fact, and he wasn't wrong.

"Isn't the saying 'All's fair in love and war?'" Kara asked.

Steve huffed out a quiet laugh. "I think that's about the actions you choose to do. Things are more justifiable in intense situations. Less about circumstances."

Kara leaned back and hummed in response. There was silence in the jet for a while before Kara sat up. "Oh. I wonder… I wonder what happened to Mar-Vell. If he's okay." The statement was more her thinking out loud, but of course Steve heard.

"Who?"

"He's… he trained me and Carol. I never really found out his story, but he's an ex-Capitolite. Maybe a trainer from the early Games. Either way, he was living in the woods outside the district. Carol had been sneaking off a lot, and one day, I started following her." Kara smiled. "I wanted to see why she didn't want to hang out with me. So I started training with Mar-Vell too, when Carol wasn't there. I was so close to telling her, so that maybe we could train together, and then she volunteered." Kara sighed. "I shouldn't have waited."

Steve laid a hand on her shoulder. "You can't let all your past decisions weigh on you forever. And Mar-Vell sounds like he knew what he was doing. I'm sure he's all right."

"If I get the chance… I'd like to check on him while we're in Five. We could even get him out of there, bring him back to Seven with us. We could use his skills."

"If we get the chance," Steve agreed. "But the mission comes first."

Kara nodded. "The mission comes first."

It wasn't long before Peggy called back from the cockpit that they were approaching their rendezvous in Five and Kara felt the swoop in her gut that meant they were descending. As they touched down, part of her wondered if they were near Mar-Vell's place, but a quick glance around herself reminded her that they were on the wrong side of the district center.

"Okay," Steve said after the jet had landed. "Our goal should be to get into the factory, plant explosives, and get out without drawing too much attention to ourselves. We don't need extra attention on us, but if we do have to fight… do what you have to do to keep things as quiet as possible. Whether that means incapacitation or elimination. Is that clear?"

Everyone nodded.

"Team one is me and Kara. Team two is Peggy and Kitty, and team three is America and Miles. You all have the locations for your explosives?"

Another round of nods.

"Check in over comms every fifteen minutes. If speaking isn't possible, use the noise signals on your comms. Let people _know_ if you're in trouble. Keep one person on watch while you plant the explosives." Steve slung his shield over his back. "Let's move out."

The group left the jet and began their silent trek through the woods. Soon enough, the factory loomed in front of them, smokestacks towering and empty. Steve pointed out their entry door, and everyone gathered in front of it. The six of them were dressed identically in stealth suits and masks with night-vision goggles.

"No guards…" Kitty murmured.

"No one in the district's gonna be dumb enough to come out here," pointed out America. "What would they do?"

"Better for us," Peggy remarked. "Makes our job easier."

"Remember: when we get in, we're headed for the basement," Steve said. "Kara and I will breach the door and secure this area." He glanced at Kara. "Ready?"

Kara nodded. Steve reached down, trying the handle of the door.

It turned.

Steve twisted it ever so slowly. Once it was fully turned, he counted with his other hand.

 _One...two...three._

On three, he threw the door open, and the two of them darted inside, snapping into back-to back positions with their shields up.

Nothing moved inside. "Let's move," Steve breathed out, inviting the others inside.

"Split up," Steve said, motioning for Kara to follow him toward a door across the room. It opened into a stairwell, and Steve pointed down. They crept down the stairs and into the basement level.

The halls were small down here. Pipes ran along the ceiling, and the floor had the occasional puddle fed by a drip from above. Steve consulted a tiny computer on his wrist and pointed to where the corridor split up ahead. "Left," he whispered, hefting his shield into a defensive position.

Kara and Steve moved quietly through the maze of hallways, guided by Steve's computer. They reached their first checkpoint without any trouble, and Steve quickly placed and primed the explosive while Kara stood guard.

"One down," Kara whispered into her comm as Steve finished. She heard similar affirmations from the other teams over the next few minutes as they travelled to their second checkpoint.

They encountered their first Hydra soldier about five minutes later. He was on guard near the checkpoint, and the muffled chatter on his radio was the only thing that alerted them to his presence around a corner.

With a couple of clear hand motions, Steve indicated that he would take the soldier out. Kara nodded, and Steve sprang around the corner. There was a metallic _thud_ , a crunch, and a muffled _oof_ , followed closely by the _thump_ of a body hitting the ground.

Kara poked her head around the corner. Steve stood over the soldier. He gave her a thumbs- up and waved her onward.

"We had to take down a soldier," Steve whispered into his comm. "They're going to know something's up when he doesn't check in, so we need to hurry."

" _We've got our second device placed,"_ Peggy said. " _We're heading topside. Watch your six."_

"Let's get this one taken care of," Steve said to Kara, pulling their second explosive from his bag. "I don't want to hang around that guy any longer than we need to."

Steve went to work setting up the explosive. While he did so, Miles let them know that their team had placed their second device as well.

"Be careful heading up, guys," Steve warned as he finished priming the device. "Let's move," he said to Kara.

Just in time, too — as the soldier on the floor moaned slightly, Kara stepped over him, and she and Steve began to jog back the way they'd come.

The group almost made it back outside.

Of course, _almost_ only counted in horseshoes and hand grenades.

They regrouped in one of the huge machinery rooms and were headed for a door to the outside when another door burst open and a full platoon of at least thirty soldiers in green flooded the room.

"Stop, intruders!" one shouted, weapon drawn.

"Take cover!" Steve yelled. He crouched down behind his shield, and Kara did the same. The rest of their group ducked behind whatever shelter they could get as the soldiers opened fire on them. Peggy immediately returned fire from behind a pillar, sending several of them sprawling right away and causing the rest to momentarily stop firing in confusion. It was clear they had expected average Five citizens, not a group prepared to fight back.

With the Hydra soldiers momentarily stunned, the rest of the TAHITI squad leapt into action. Steve and Kara charged forward, utilizing their shields like battering rams as they bowled into the group of Hydra soldiers, scattering them. With the soldiers now in disarray, Kitty, America, and Miles darted into the chaos, fists and feet flying.

America in particular was a blur of legs and fists as she smacked down one soldier after another. Kitty darted between the Hydra men, impossible to grab as she took them down with well-placed jabs to vulnerable nerve clusters. And Miles — Miles spent a brief moment powering up his gauntlets, making them crackle with blue-white electricity as he grinned before charging in, delivering touches that made the Hydra soldiers jitter on their toes like ballerinas before collapsing in a heap on the ground.

"Get outside when you get the chance!" Kara called over the comms.

Steve was engaged with a soldier that seemed to have a particular focus on him. Kara was trying to fight off two at once and only caught glimpses of Steve's fight, but the soldier was giving him a run for his money, matching his every move.

Kara finally managed to dispatch one of her foes with a shield bash to the head and the other with a vicious slash of her sword. She turned to find Steve grappling with his soldier, holding the green-clad creep in a armlock-headlock combo. Kara took a quick glance around — everyone was holding their own, taking care of the last few Hydra soldiers. She saw Kitty drop the last soldier nearest her and sprint for a pair of doors that led outside. She turned her attention back to Steve just as the soldier wrenched himself free of Steve's grip, dislodging his own green hood and goggles. Steve dropped into a defensive crouch, his shield held in front of him as the soldier ripped the headwear off in annoyance and turned back to Steve.

Kara watched Steve jerk backward in shock, almost losing his balance as he saw the soldier's face. Kara looked at the man, trying to figure out what was causing Steve such distress.

It took her a few seconds to remember where she'd seen that face before, because it was familiar. She'd seen him around the district on occasion, most recently when Steve had volunteered for him at his Reaping. The name came to her just as Steve whispered it.

" _Bucky?"_

The soldier frowned at him. "Who the hell is Bucky?" he growled before charging Steve again.

This time, Steve didn't attack. He lifted his shield in panic, causing Bucky to crash into the curved metal surface and stagger away.

"Bucky, it's me! It's Steve!" Steve protested as Bucky caught his balance. He looked ready to charge — and then, bizarrely, he turned and darted away, crashing through a door that opened out into the night.

Steve was frozen in place. Kara hurried over to him and took him gently but firmly by the arm.

"Steve, we need to _go_ ," Kara said, trying to usher him towards the door. "We need to get out of here."

Steve stared at the door through which Bucky had disappeared for a heartbeat. Another beat. Then, he took off running for it, with Kara hot on his tail.

"Steve, _wait!_ " she yelled. Steve burst through the door, Kara only a heartbeat behind him. She reached out and latched onto his arm, planting her feet and managing to drag him to a stop, surprising herself.

He wheeled around. "That was _Bucky,_ " he protested. "He was… I don't understand."

"You know as well as I do that Hydra has some serious brainwashing techniques," Kara said.

Steve pulled his arm out of her grip. "He's my best friend, Kara. I can't just _leave_ him here! We can help him! We have to find him!"

" _Steve, Kara, where are you?"_ Kitty's voice came over the comms. " _We've got more soldiers incoming! We need to take off_ now!"

Kara looked at Steve's stricken face. "We're fine... but we have a new mission," she replied. "You guys get out of here, we'll get back to base another way!"

" _But_ —"

" _Go!"_ Kara said in a voice she didn't know she had.

" _Are you sure?_ "

"Yes, get out of here!" Kara said. "We'll be fine!"

" _Please be safe,_ " were Kitty's last words. Faintly, in the distance, Kara heard the rumble of the jet's engines starting up. She took Steve's arm, and he looked up at her.

"You're going to help me?"

Kara nodded. "I know what it's like to have someone close under Hydra's control," she said. "And I will do everything in my power to help you get Bucky back. But we still have something to do." Kara nodded up at the factory building. "The mission comes first," she said.

She and Steve retreated into the woods, ducking behind a tree. Steve opened up the computer on his wrist and entered a series of commands before tapping the red icon that appeared.

The ground shook as the factory collapsed on itself in a cacophony of screeching metal and clattering stonework. A wave of dust rolled outward, spiraling around them, but their masks covered their faces and protected them.

"We'll get him back," Kara promised as the dust settled around them. "Whatever it takes."


	46. Chapter 46: He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're back with our favorite mercs, with Canucklehead Cowgirl writing Harley and Wade being the nutcases they are ;)**

 **Thanks to our writers who reviewed and we are keeping the fun alive, and thanks to our reviewers TheRaspberryVigilante (Five really is the "heartland" huh?), Slim Summers2002 (we love some good Hydra comeuppance), and TJtrack99 (the Bucky thing has been building from Book One, so really, it's nice to see it starting to coalesce)!**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Six - He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not**

 **Harleen Quinzel & Wade Wilson**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 _The only difference between a hero and a villain is that the villain chooses to use that power in a way that is selfish and hurts other people._ — _Chadwick Boseman_

* * *

 **Harleen Quinzel**

 **Formerly of District Eight**

 **District Seven Airspace**

* * *

Initially, all three of the troublemakers that had left Twelve on the hunt for Jack were in shock from Ivy having killed him _finally_ — but that had given way to the panicked rush to get _out_ of the Capitol. Especially since Viper was more than a little tiffed off at the group. In the end, though they fought their way out and managed to get _free_ , the ride back to Seven was a _wee bit_ … tense. For everyone involved.

But … seein' as Wade was playing both pilot and stewardess for the group — with Dick 'Hot Pants' Grayson stepping in to handle the radio when it was clear Wade could _not_ be trusted to do so — Ivy and Harley ended up with a bit of quiet time to themselves in the far back section of the craft.

They could have talked … they _should_ have. But instead, the two of them snuggled into each other and just … soaked in each other's presence. Now and again, Ivy would turn her head, and Harley couldn't help but simply _grin_ at her before she leaned forward and gave her a little kiss on the cheek — or the lips. Whatever was handy.

But with so many injuries— and so many _uptight_ people — the best thing they could do was to keep out of the way and be quiet. Which was great, all the way until they got to the _secret_ base. That … wasn't what Harley was expecting. At all.

Sure, she knew they'd missed the explosive exit from Twelve … but this … this just wasn't what she thought _Seven_ looked like. " _Ho-lee-free-holeys_ ," Harley whispered as she stepped out of the transport. The 'Titans' had rushed off ahead of Harley and Ivy — and to be honest, after some of the long talks she'd had with Wade, she thought she and her friends might just … close the door and fly away again.

"Come on, doves," Wade said, almost bouncing as he made his way over. "We gotta go tell my sorority brother what went down, and .. then I need to make sure that Uncle Phil gets the message that I'm not going to play for their team."

"Hey Red," Harley said as she glanced over at Ivy. "I know you don't wanna be around 'em, but I swear, they're alright!"

"Harley, they've never done anything for you — or for me," Ivy replied.

"About that," Harley said slowly before she took both of Ivy's hands in hers. "SHIELD was the ones that brought me back, snapdragon. It was that hunk Stark and his sweet little science buddy Fitz that was there when I woke up. Tony was even a real gent and gave me the actual shirt off his back on account'a I woke up in my birthday suit an' he was tryin' fer chivalrous." She leaned forward with her eyes wide. "An' between you an' me, chivalrous was a good look on him. Especially with his shirt off." She winked in an exaggerated fashion and elbowed Wade, who could only nod along in agreement.

"He's got arms that could _forge iron_ ," Wade said, nodding sagely. "His butt's pretty cute too."

"The point, though, is that … well. The new guy runnin' things? He ain't like Fury. An' he's got a different way'a lookin' at everything. Likely on account'a him bein' a victor an' he knows what it's like when alla them so-called _adults_ made a career outta screwin' with kids. The man has some interesting complexes, if I'm being frank."

Before Harley could get further into her plea for Ivy to stay though, a well-dressed woman who looked to be a maid came out across the lawn to greet them. "You three must be famished," she said, holding her arm out until Harley was close enough for her to rest her hand on Harley's shoulders. "Come along, out of the line of vision, whatever that is."

Harley grinned at her and then turned to do the same to Wade and Ivy. "I think I like this place," she said under her breath as they passed a tall hedge. "Are we in trouble, lady?"

"I'm Mrs. Hopkins," the woman said with a tight sort of business-like smile. "And of course you're not in trouble. Master James asked that you be seen to your rooms and given whatever you require to settle in." She paused. "Though I'm sure that Mister Coulson would like to speak with you before you call it a night."

When they reached the door, paused and held it open for them, though she was sure to smile warmly at Ivy when she looked as if the last thing she wanted was to step into the massive, sprawling manor. "You must be the young lady Master James was telling me about. He mentioned that you might prefer to spend your time in the gardens." She tipped her head toward the sprawling yard whose borders were barely visible by the cover of wild roses and vines covering the stone walls. "We've done our best to maintain them, but I'll admit in recent years, it's gone a bit wild 'round the edges."

Ivy seemed to slow as she took in not only the yard but the green beyond it with impossibly large trees that seemed to go on forever, fading only to greens and grays as they touched the mountains in the distance.

"But you're gonna come wit' me, right, Red?" Harley said, not even attempting to hide her obvious attempt to sway her, wide-eyed, fluttering eyelashes — and her hands clasped under her chin. "Even if we're just here for a couple hours, you can bunk wit' me!"

"At least see where we're staying," Wade suggested. " _Then_ come on out and tiptoe through the tulips."

"I can take you up to your room whenever you're ready, Miss," Mrs. Hopkins offered. "No need to rush if you want to clear your head. I've seen how stuffy some of these SHIELD types can be, and I'd like to remind you that this technically is _not_ a SHIELD facility. Even if some of them think it is."

"Maybe … if it's alright, I think I might need a moment," Ivy said quietly.

"Just say the word, Miss," Mrs. Hopkins said warmly. "Feel free to go ahead, start explorin'. You'll be safe here — even out of the house."

"Don't forget about me, Red," Harley said before she kissed Ivy's cheek and then twirled in a slow pirouette. She took only a second or two before she bounced over and grabbed a hold of Wade's arm. "Alright, lady, we're ready for _ye olde grand_ _tour_."

Mrs. Hopkins let out a little huff but turned to lead the way all the same, immediately diving in to point out the different features after she outlined what times that meals would be prepared.

Harley was smiling to herself the further she got into the sprawling house. Deep woodwork lined the walls, rich dark wood floors were covered in expensive looking long rugs … everything about the place was rich and sophisticated in a way that made the Capitol and all of its wasteful trends look cheap. "I think I'm gonna like it here," Harley said, nodding to herself as Mrs. Hopkins led the way to their rooms.

"Now, I know that some of you have been fooling about, but Mrs. O'Malley and I will have none of that kind of scandal under this roof," Mrs. Hopkins said sternly as she turned her pointed glare to Wade. "Unless you're married, gentlemen get a separate room _away_ from the young ladies, Mr. Wilson."

"Oh, come on, what about Better Hawkeye and the Bamfmaster?" Wade protested. "You can't tell me they're not allowed to share a room!"

"I'm telling you the house _rules_ , Mr. Wilson. Your room is down the way; this suite is for Miss Quinzel and her friend Miss Isley — if she wants to come out of the gardens, that is." She straightened out her apron and looked a bit affronted. "Though as I understand it, she's got permission to stay outside if she pleases." Mrs. Hopkins shook her head before she turned to leave, muttering to herself about how she needed to have a chat to set Master James down the right path again.…

"This place. Is so. _Weird_ ," Harley giggled before she peeked down the hall to be sure Mrs. Hopkins had turned the corner before she yanked Wade into her room to steal a kiss.

* * *

 **Wade Wilson**

 **Formerly of District One**

* * *

Wade had been up most of the night, hemming and hawing about what he was going to say to Agent Coulson. He'd have been lying if he said he wasn't nervous. He wasn't even sure that they'd be strictly allowed to go off the reservation like they wanted, but … everything he saw about the war was good. And the stabby little director was _still_ pushing the SHIELD troops at an unholy pace and taking one win after another as a result.

Special forces was almost bourgeois at this point. Most of the missions were headed up by one strike force or another — and then followed up by a massive rush of soldiers. SHIELD troops were actually _enjoying_ themselves for the victories they were winning, and troop morale was just getting better. Especially when the soldiers never knew when they'd spot their new director in the trenches with them, fighting alongside them. Which Wade knew for a fact was giving Miss Maria Hill and the best special agents SHIELD had all _sorts_ of fits.

So he knew Uncle Phil was probably in a mood when he found his way to the room that those in charge were using as a central operations hub. "Knock knock," Wade said, gently rapping his knuckles on thin air. "I need to have a word; there are things to be discussed …"

"I don't really have time for this, Deadpool," Coulson said, barely glancing up at him when he'd arrived. "I have to get through these new troop movements around the Capitol. Logan's got something planned, but there are considerations he's not making …"

"This will only take a second, and it's more a notification than anything," Wade assured him.

"Is this about you quitting SHIELD and stepping out as a private contractor?" Coulson asked, finally looking up to hold Wade's gaze. "Because I already know, and there's nothing I can do to stop you if that's what route you want to take. I just have to remind you that I can't guarantee that we can come to get you out of trouble if you get in too deep."

Wade was honestly surprised. _Didn't see that one coming, did you, big guy?_

 _ **Never does. And then it's always just … boom! Reality bomb.**_

"So … I'm not in trouble?"

"On the contrary," Coulson said, standing more upright as he pushed away from the intel spread across the desk. ""You've done remarkable work with us, Wade. And I think I speak on behalf of the whole of SHIELD when I say that we are grateful for the good work you've done to help liberate Marvel." Coulson gave him an almost crooked smile. "You've earned it if you want out."

"This … I thought there would be more yelling," Wade said, still staring at Coulson as if he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"If Fury was still in charge, you'd likely be locked in the brig until further notice, but … it's a new SHIELD, apparently."

"No kidding," Wade said before he darted forward and positively wrapped himself around Coulson. "I think I'll miss you most of all, scarecrow."

"Wade."

"No, no, it's okay to cry. I know I was your favorite."

Coulson let out a weary sigh and hesitantly returned the hug one-armed until Wade was finished. "No rush to leave. Recharge; take your time. I'm sure you'll want a way to keep in touch too."

"Do I have to talk to the director for that?"

"Wouldn't hurt. If you can find him," Coulson said before he gave him a tight kind of smile. "Try to stay out of trouble, would you?"

"Me? Always," Wade shot back before he turned on his heel and started to positively skip down the hall.

This … wasn't what he'd expected, though before he got too far from Coulson, several very serious looking SHIELD personnel passed him — already talking about some kind of big to-do that had Wade wondering if he shouldn't stay just a _little bit_ longer. Whatever was going on … it was bigger than Wade had first realized.

 _ **Whatever they're up to …**_

 _It looks big._

He took a few steps walking backward, listening to the buzz.… Viper was up to something, and that had Wade thanking his lucky stars that he'd backed out of this mess before it fully started up. "Feel sorry for the stupid bastard that gets caught up in that mess," Wade said under his breath.

 _ **Yeah, but you know who that is, don't'cha?**_

"He'll be fine," Wade muttered to himself under his breath.

More and more people were rushing by — going to the large dining room where he could see everyone was staging for a Big Meeting. Bruce Wayne was already standing by the window, glaring out of it as if the world itself had betrayed him. Which … meant it was definitely time for Wade to find his sweetie and—

" _Oof!_ " Wade was knocked nearly off his feet as Harley tackled him — or mostly tackled him, diving into his arms and forcing him to catch her before they both tumbled over, earning a few disapproving looks from the SHIELD higher-ups walking in.

"Mrs. Hopkins is all worked up about some meetin' with all the bigwigs," Harley said, completely ignoring said bigwigs all around her. "What say me an' you go find an empty _wing_ an' make the most of it?" Harley grinned, finishing up with a giggle and her tongue between her teeth.

"That … that sounds like the best and most attractive idea I've ever heard in my entire life," Wade said, staring at her in awe before they got all wrapped up right there in the hallway.

Someone cleared their throat, and the two of them looked up in time to see _the_ one and only Agent Melinda May with her arms crossed wearing a look of intense disapproval.

 _Always the joykill. I wonder if that's her speciality._

 _ **Piss her off and I'm sure she'll show you what her specialty is.**_

"Oh. Right. Some people are inherently uncomfortable with public displays of affection," Harley said. "It can serve as a reminder of what it is they're too _repressed_ to reach for themselves. That or they're freakin' jealous and can't stand to see other people bein' _happy_."

Wade grinned at her and then got to his feet, pulling her up with him before they headed down the hall. "You. Are so. Stinkin' _smart_ ," Wade said before they started stealing little kisses and holding hands on their way toward the door. "We should find your blushing begonia and figure out where we're headed."

"Wade," a familiar voice called out — and a moment later, as Wade and Harley turned, Logan came into view. He was moving stiffly, and where he wasn't bruised, cut, or scraped, he looked pale — or paler, anyhow — but he was headed their way all the same. "I need to talk to you for a minute."

 _ **What did you do?**_

"Well … okay," Wade said. "But … I'm not in SHIELD anymore; you know that right? Maybe you don't; I just told Coulson—"

"Yeah, I knew it was comin'. That's fine." Logan nodded, then led them down the hall and opened a door, which he held open for Wade to step into. "Part of why I wanted to do this now." He held up a hand to stop Harley from following. "I just need a few minutes. I swear I'll give him back."

She pouted at that. "I don't get why I can't go too!" she said. "I'm gonna be workin' right along with him, so I don't need no one givin' me flack just … just because I'm a _girl_!" her tone was rising, and Logan's eyes narrowed at her accusation. "That's what it is, huh? Isn't it?" Logan gestured for her to tone down, obviously irritated at her volume too. Especially when several SHIELD agents were clearly watching from the doorway where all of them were gathering.

"No. You wanna keep it down?" Logan said low between clenched teeth. "I'm the last damn person to give a woman flack for doin' whatever the hell she wants, honey. You're way off base, so lay the hell off."

"No! Why's the big bad director keepin' a secret from everyone?" Harley asked, though she did drop her tone, even as she got right up in Logan's face until they were inches apart. "I thought your whole thing was makin' it so everyone knew what was goin' on!" She was poking him in the chest with every word, her chin jutted out in defiance, and when she ran out of words, she poked him a few extra times for good measure and crossed her arms.

"You gonna listen to me or you gonna make a damn scene?" Logan challenged, which got Harley to at least shrug a shoulder and step back.

"I just wanna be in on whatever you're talkin' to my sweetheart for."

 _ **They're going to keep fighting; might as well clue him in.**_

 _Chicks dig it when you're honest. Oooh, I'll bet she smiles if you stand up for her._

"I'm probably gonna tell her anyway," Wade cut in from the doorway. "So you know … might as well let her in so we can spend our alone time kissing instead of talking about _you_."

Logan looked more tense at that. "Can you keep a damn secret? As in just between me an' the two of ya?" Logan half-barked.

"Well … yeah, for you?" Wade said before he wrapped Logan up in a tight hug and kissed his cheek. "Anything for you, Wolvie!"

Logan barely tried to push Wade back as he waved Harley in and then locked the door behind them. "Coulson said you're plannin' to start up as a mercenary."

 _ **The fuzz is onto us.**_

"Shus- how … who told you _that_?" Wade asked, trying and failing to go for a nonchalant look. Particularly when, as he awkwardly tried to get control of the situation, he knocked the lamp off of the desk, causing it to shatter on the floor. "It … was like that when I got here."

 _ **Smooth. Very smooth.**_

 _I think he bought it._

Logan looked both unamused and not at all surprised as he drew in then let out a deep breath just before Harley cleared her throat and waved the tips of her fingers, her perfectly curled pigtails swaying as she inserted herself into the conversation.

"Excuse me? Um … is that … the mercenary thing … is that a no-no?" Harley asked, her eyes wide and a grin in place that telegraphed that she absolutely knew it was. "Cause if it is, we had _no_ idea. Honest." She had one hand behind her back that Wade could see — her fingers crossed — but that only had Wade mouthing out 'I love you'.

"Technically, yeah, but I don't give a crap about that," Logan said with a completely unconcerned wave. "I wanna hire you."

 _ **Say what?**_

Wade did a clear double take at that. "Come again?" Wade said at the same time Harley managed a "What?"

Logan took just a moment to look them both over before he leaned against the desk with his arms crossed. "I need a backup for my next run, and you're my first pick. The whole thing's gonna be easier to keep on the down low if you're plannin' to take money for your jobs," Logan replied. "I'll pay you half up front, the other half … I'll make sure you get the coordinates for where the rest of your money will be waiting once the job is done."

"That sounds an awful lot like you don't plan on seeing me for the second half," Wade said, looking more than a little concerned.

Logan smirked at that. "If I still got the job, I can't really be seen hangin' out with mercs, can I?"

"What do you mean 'if'?" Harley asked, losing her playful tone entirely and shifting where she stood before she took a few steps closer to him, her arms crossed over her chest. "You're in charge _now_ … why wouldn't you be after he's done?"

Logan held her gaze for a heartbeat or two before he simply came clean. "Because I'm paying him to kill me."

"No," Wade said, already shaking his head and ignoring the wave of complaints and protest that the two arguing voices in his head were shouting. "No way; forget it. No."

"You are way crazier than I gave you credit for," Harley told Logan with a raised eyebrow before she reached over and pinched his cheek. "Not the best look, though, I gotta say. Heroic's more your color, honey."

"She's right! You don't need to — _No!_ What the hell did Creed _do_ to you? Just … _augh!_ "

"Deadpool," Logan said as he took a few steps toward him, which was enough to get Wade to stop and turn his way; even Wade knew that Harley could see that he was absolutely upset at hearing what Logan had to say. "I'm walkin' into a trap. I know I am. It's a gamble. If everything goes to plan, I won't need you to do a damn thing."

"Why? Because you'll be dead?"

"No," Logan replied, shaking his head gently. "If this works, Viper will be the one to die. But … if it goes south, I can't afford to take the chance on what she'd do to me if I'm captured." He held Wade's gaze with a perfectly open expression. "It's not a hit. It's insurance, but I need you to shoot me if she captures me. I won't give up SHIELD's secrets, and I won't let her use me again. But ... I know better'n most that she's got the drugs and the means to do whatever the hell she wants to me if she can get me isolated."

Wade was honestly weighing it out — and also more than a little horrified — before he started shaking his head slowly. "No. No, I'm not doing that. I'm not gonna be the one to pull the trigger on you."

"Wade," Logan said, "I don't have anyone else that I can trust to do this right."

"You sure this isn't your depression talkin'?" Harley cut in. "I'll bet you've been high risk for a long time."

Logan turned her way, but instead of arguing with her, he simply shook his head. "No. That's … not a factor, and _not the damn point_." Logan was clearly frustrated for a moment as he waved her concerns away. " Listen, I'd rather be right and have my plan work, but if it doesn't, I can't let Hydra use me."

"You want me to _kill_ you," Wade said flatly. "I'd be on the run for the rest of my _life_ if I did that."

"I'm payin' you enough that you could retire overseas if you wanted," Logan said, gesturing to the room they were in. "You know I've got the money to back it up."

"That's not the point!" Wade shouted, clearly angry. He'd started to pace, but now, he looked as if he was primed for a fight. Every word took him closer to Logan until they were nose to nose, and Wade was shoving his shoulder making Logan back up a step every time he did until his back was against the wall of bookcases. " _That's_ not what you're supposed to do, _Wolverine_! You're supposed to _fix_ the mess that Fury and all those idiots made!"

"That's what I'm tryin' to do, damnit," Logan said, though it was clear that, for the first time since they'd started their chat, Logan was relaxing. "The whole reason I'm here doing the crap I'm doing was because someone pointed out to me that we all need to step up and really be the heroes we're supposed to be. Everyone thinks you're a freak, Wade. From the way you act and the crap you pull … but I know — I _know_ you ain't as crazy as you pretend to be. I'm not sayin' you ain't nuts, but you can keep it together when you have to. When you _want_ to. And I'm askin' you to do this for me to keep this push to kill Hydra going, to keep everyone we care about safe. I'm askin' _you_ because I know I can trust you to do this _right_. Cause I _need_ you to do it right and I know you don't let people down when you know they need you."

Wade watched him for a long moment with his hands on his hips and a serious expression on his face. "You have to reword it," Wade said finally, almost as if saying it _hurt_. "Reword it and I'll do it."

Logan scowled at him, clearly confused. "What the hell d'ya want me to say, ya lunatic? I just spilled my damn guts for you."

"Say you're hiring me to keep Viper from getting a hold of you. I can take that, but I cannot take your money to kill you," Wade said. "You want to die, that's your business, but I'm not going to give you suicide by Deadpool."

Logan gave him a dry, highly unamused look, and when he spoke, his tone was entirely flat — and that maybe more than anything else showed Wade exactly how desperate Logan was to get this done. "Wade, I want to hire you to keep Viper from _brainwashing_ me and stealing SHIELD secrets by any means necessary. Now, you gonna do the job or do I need to tell you what she does once she drugs you and drags you back to her suite?"

Wade stopped cold and held up both hands in a 'time out' signal. "No, no, that's … no need." He took a few steps closer to Logan, who had yet to blink as he watched Wade, even as Wade put his arm around Logan's shoulders, pulling him closer. "Have you seen a _doctor_? And maybe a highly specialized team of psychotherapists to deal with the extreme trauma that you've been through with just _that_ encounter? No expense spared for you, Wolvie. That's some higher-level nasty going on."

"It really would be smart," Harley called out as Logan glanced her way and then let out a patient, measured breath. "You victors got a whole list of reasons to talk to a shrink: PTSD, survivor guilt, undue responsibility loaded on ya left an' right … not to mention the emotional and sexual abuse after you won …"

But that had Logan bristling. "You want the job or do I gotta find someone dirtier?" Logan said, his jaw locked as he turned his back to Harley completely. "'Cause if you really don't want it, my second choice is an old prison guard outta One that's been raisin' hell and killin' anyone that's been even mildly askin' for it."

"Oh, no, like hell you will," Wade said, then threw his arm over Logan's shoulders to pull him closer, waving Harley over to get in on the hug. She didn't hesitate to take up Logan's other side, even as he was almost cringing at the two of them pressing in. "I'll do it. Or … I'll take the job anyhow. On all that's holy, I swear that even without taking your money—"

"Which he will anyhow," Harley cut in before she leaned over to kiss Logan's cheek, giggling at the lip print. "We gotta make a livin' after all, _Mistah Wolverine_."

"—Viper won't be able to lay a dirty finger on you again."

For a long moment, Logan simply shook his head to himself. Finally, he nodded and tried to get out of the tangle to hold his hand out for Wade to shake, though that quickly turned into a bear hug from Wade that Harley had deftly stepped out of the way for.

" _Ah-hem_ ," Harley said after with her hands clasped in front of her, wearing a wide grin. It was clear that Logan couldn't get Wade off of him, and Wade had no plans to let go. "I just got one tiny lil' question." Logan pulled back from Wade enough to at least meet her gaze before she continued. "How come SHIELD was lockin' my Ivy up back in Twelve — and now you got her runnin' around more or less without even an escort in your _house_ , which…" She looked around the room, spinning on one foot. "...is one hell of a house, by the way."

"She was with you when you followed Jack and helped to bust everyone out, wasn't she?" Logan asked, and when Harley nodded, Logan gestured loosely with one hand. "If she's savin' the lives of people she'd tried to kill — and _did_ kill already — then she's not a lost cause."

Harley looked shocked. "That's _it_? She didn't try an' kill the girls, so she's got a green light?"

"I'm a little more understandin' of what happens in the arena than the SHIELD docs an' brass are," Logan pointed out. "Been there, done that. Even met up with a few of the guys I killed. Rogers and Stark weren't too vocal, but I got cold cocked by Banner when he saw me again. I'm tellin' ya: I know Isley's _not_ crazy. No more than anyone else that's been through it."

Harley bit her lip and tipped her head to the side. "Yeah, I guess the victors prolly got a better handle on what all that's about," Harley decided. "But still… I wasn't kiddin'. You could do with some pretty intensive psychological help. All of ya, but you especially. You've got some warnin' signs that're screamin' in neon — and that's even _before_ you tried to hire my sweet lil' 'pool to snuff ya."

"I'll pay for your therapy," Wade whispered, pulling Logan into another hug. It occurred to Wade that he might not get the chance to do this again, and instead of laying off, the realization had him doubling down on the snuggles he'd been wanting to do since he'd first _met_ the little guy.

"Wade …"

"Not. Done. Yet," Wade said in almost a whisper before he kissed Logan's cheek — which of course got Logan to finally push Wade _off_ just as Wade tried to go for one on the lips. "Oh come on — one for the road?"

Logan was glaring at him as he walked to the door, obviously happy to leave the two of them together.

"He is _not_ doin' nearly as well as he thinks," Harley said, shaking her head slowly.

"No kidding," Wade agreed, then picked her up in a spinning hug as he kissed her. "So. You wanna tell the Dandelioness now or later? Because, baby: I got a big payday, and we're gonna need to talk this over as a group."

"Well," Harley said, drawing out the word as she tipped her head and rested her finger on her chin. "Ma-a-aybe we can let 'er wait a little while. I mean … all the big shots're all tied up, an' you know the staff'll be waitin' to hear what's goin' on … ain't nobody gonna interrupt…"

"Good god, you're right," Wade replied, looking up at her before he reached over to close and lock the door again — and steal a little privacy.


	47. Chapter 47: Check

**(A/N): This chapter starts off our fourth round, and we really think you're gonna like how we hit the ground running!**

 **Thanks as always to the writers who reviewed as well as to our stalwart, amazing reviewers, TheRaspberryVigilante41 and Slim Summers2002. We also totally love it when our resident cuckoos get to show off their good sides! ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Seven - Check**

 **Scott Summers and Charles Xavier**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Tactics is knowing what to do when there is something to do; strategy is knowing what to do when there is nothing to do."_ — _Savielly Tartakower_

* * *

 **Scott Summers**

* * *

The entire Howlett Estate was buzzing with activity, and if Scott was honest, he wanted _in_ just as much as everyone else did.

The word was out about that there was going to be another big push. The rumor was that Logan was going to take on Viper, the new head of Hydra, himself - but in the meantime, there were other rumors about _more_. The Tahiti operatives were of course getting a lot of the missions, but not everyone in the estate was part of SHIELD, so Scott didn't know what "more" meant. But he _did_ know if he didn't say something, he was going to miss his chance to help — and to speak up for the others that wanted to help as well.

Scott and the others - like Kitty and Kamala and the rebels that had slowly been trickling into Seven for refuge - more or less had to take it upon themselves to make sure that they weren't lost in the shuffle. To that end, Scott had been using Barbara and her father's position to get into a few meetings — and had outright walked into a few others that he _probably_ didn't have clearance for but that didn't have representation outside of SHIELD. And so far, Logan hadn't kicked him out of any of those, so he planned to keep doing it.

So when he heard about the big meeting to plan for the push across the entirety of Marvel, he knew it wasn't something he could miss.

Scott had broken into a full run as he turned the corner … and then slammed into someone, taking them both to the ground. "Sorry, sorry, my fault," he managed to breathe out as he quickly disentangled himself from the young woman he'd slammed into. He was scarcely on his feet before he was trying to put her back on hers, realizing belatedly that it was Peggy and feeling even worse, since he was sure she had the same thought he did. She'd been pretty insistent in the time that he'd known her at Wayne Manor that she was going to keep fighting, even if she didn't have a home field advantage anymore.

"It's fine," Peggy said as she straightened out her blouse, though she clearly looked annoyed. "At least tell me: do you know what it is that has them all so … worked up? Do you know what they're discussing?"

"I overheard Agents Coulson and Quartermain saying that the director had a new angle of approach. Big push. It seems like practically everyone's involved." He paused. "Well, everyone in SHIELD."

"Then we should go see what they're discussing," Peggy decided, before she started striding toward the dining room as if she could simply walk through anything in her way.

That had Scott smirking to himself, thinking of how many times Barbara had done more or less the same thing since they got out of the orphanage and she'd decided they were a team. "Right behind you," Scott said.

When they got to the dining room, there were several victors already gathered up, along with anyone that Logan had appointed to his council that wasn't already engaged elsewhere. For the most part, that meant most of the country — outside of Four — was well-represented. And everyone had agreed that Four had more than enough on their plates; they didn't have enough resources or time to concern themselves with planning for the rest of the country.

When Logan made his way in, he was doing his best to hide the slight limp Victor Creed had given him in his last fight. Kurt and Kate were seated close together, not far from the entire Wayne family — plus Kory Anders, of course. Miss Anders was rarely seen too far from Dick Grayson, and Scott noticed that Charles Xavier was watching them as well, unable to stop the smile he was wearing.

"This is a closed meeting," Maria Hill said.

"But not a closed war," Peggy said without missing a beat. "The rest of us have to live with what you decide here. Might help if you get outside eyes."

Logan took a moment to look up at the group at the door, and though he frowned, it was clear he had made his decision quickly. "You were runnin' rebellion work in Five before you came here, right?" When Peggy nodded, Logan continued, "Good. Come on up here. Take a look at the intel while we get started. Gonna want your input."

Peggy didn't hesitate, and in no time at all, Logan was quietly showing her what they had and discussing something with her … before he handed her the tablet entirely. For a moment, the two of them were deeply invested in whatever was on the tablet with Skye nodding her head now and again not only to what Logan was asking, but to what Peggy was asking too.

"There are plenty of us that were at Wayne Manor who had been running rebellion work before Hydra pushed them out," Scott broke in when there was a lull in the back and forth. "I know you're SHIELD, but you can't afford to ignore the rest of us. We want in. Talk to anyone here that's not Tahiti and they'll tell you that."

"The door's open, Slim," Logan said, glancing up and holding his gaze. "I didn't close it."

"You haven't been here."

"If you got somethin' to add, go for it. I won't stop you."

"I don't even know what your plan is — none of us do. That's why I'm here."

"That's what we're all here for," Coulson cut in. "To find out what this new push is going to be. Especially since the intel doesn't show anything that's really _changed_ yet."

Scott gestured with one hand. "I'm not trying to take over. I just came to tell you to put us in your plans — before you make them without us. That's all."

Logan drew in a breath and watched him for a moment. "It's kinda fluid. Plenty of room for anyone that wants in."

Scott shrugged at that. "Alright then."

Taking a look around the room, Scott had a feeling he knew what the plan was anyway, though. He was sure it was going to be a bigger strike to free Five as Steve Rogers had been pushing for before he'd gone in on a covert mission there, especially considering how Peggy and Logan were looking it all over. After all, Sinthea _Schmidt_ had been allowed to go after the Skull in Six, and the kids from Four _still_ hadn't been seen after Logan had apparently given them carte blanche. It did win that battle, but still. This war was going to go on _forever_ if everything kept hanging on every battle and every move was based on _favoritism_ to tributes and victors …

It was a little jarring, though, when Logan didn't bother waiting for Coulson to finish shuffling his papers or for Skye to hand him the latest intel when he simply let his plan be known to the group at large.

"Alright. We're goin' in to take out Viper _first_ ," Logan said, which got a frown out of the senior-most SHIELD agents.

"We just got the kids back," Coulson said. "She's not stupid enough to think—"

"She wants me to come. I already agreed to it," Logan replied. "Latest intel says her whole little _palace_ was half on fire; chances are good she doesn't _know_ we got 'em back. That wasn't her point anyhow."

"No, her point was to try and take you out," Bruce Wayne muttered, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared Logan's way. "I've said it already privately, but I'll make my opinion clear now: I don't like your plan, Logan."

"That's because you haven't heard it," Logan replied. "You only know part of it."

"The part where you're asking one of your would-be assassins to cover your back."

Scott's head whipped around to watch Logan. That … couldn't be right. The whole of the group was frowning Logan's way, but Logan was clearly ignoring their concerns as he pushed forward. _As always,_ Scott thought to himself.

"We're not going strictly defense anymore. Viper will continue to play her insane games until we stop her. She's not like the Skull; it's not all about world domination," Logan said — and Charles was nodding gently in agreement to that. "If we don't stop her before she gets a solid standing in Hydra — before she gains momentum — she'll be using her poisons on whole battalions, and any survivors will be dragged back to her lab for her to experiment on."

"I've already asked Helena Wayne ..." Logan said as he tipped his head Helena's way. "... Clint Barton, Thea Queen, and Kate Bishop to come in with me. Not as a show of force but to stay out of the line of fire in the shadows. Viper's place is all close quarters. There are metal detectors and plenty of spots to hide all of them, and archers are the only way I can think of that'll combine accuracy with non-metallic projectiles. Carbon fiber. Resins. They'll never see 'em comin'."

"What about the labs?" Scott asked.

"They need to burn," Logan said. "Every damn one of 'em."

"I may know a couple people who can help with that," Scott said. "Burned down a lab here in Seven and helped get me and a few other kids out."

Logan nodded at that and thought about it for just a few moments. "You'll need a SHIELD agent with your group."

"We'll work that out," Coulson said. "But that just accounts for you and Summers. And we're still not addressing the fact that this is purely revenge, not a battle plan."

"Gettin' there," Logan said. "And it's not a revenge strike."

"It is for her," Coulson said simply.

Logan held up a hand to calmly show he had more to offer the group at large. "The assault on Viper, though necessary, is just the beginning." He looked up and held Wayne's gaze for a moment before moving on to each of the remaining victors still with them — and then on to the SHIELD agents as he spoke. "We have troops stationed close to almost every missing Hydra head that's still MIA. Those we're not close to we can send strike teams in to deal with at the _same time_. There are no major battles waging at the moment. Everyone is regrouping — so they won't know what hit them if we take out all of their leadership in one swoop. With Viper dead — and all of their backups neutralized — they'll be more fractured than they can recover from to win _anything_." He turned to hold Wayne's gaze. " _That_ is the plan. To crush Hydra and lettin' Viper crow to herself and anyone listenin' to her that she's takin' me out will be enough to make them drop their guard."

"Well, hot damn, if we're doing that, Kory and I can take the Titans wherever you need us to," Dick put in.

Logan nodded at that. "Same deal as with Summers," he said. "I want a SHIELD agent with all the smaller groups. You're tough, but you don't know the spy side of things. They do."

"And before we get everyone claiming their own little vendettas," Erik put in, "there are plenty of larger battles that could use victors and others at their heads." He smirked. "If nothing else, we've proven we can draw attention; some of us can be distractions."

"Pick your spot," Logan said before he leaned toward Erik slightly. "Still gotta stick with a SHIELD agent."

"Oh, of course. Where would we be without our handlers," Erik said dryly.

"Tell you what," Logan said, scrubbing one hand over his face. "If you can learn all the codes and side talk to send and receive messages that can update you in _their code_ before you go — you don't need one."

Erik shot Logan a dry look, but it was obvious he didn't have a response. So, from there, things got very busy. Almost all of the victors were stepping up to help, to offer their assistance in the joint assault, to form small teams that would strike against the long list of hopeful Hydra leaders. Bobbi Morse was particularly ready to dive in — and she seemed to have no trouble at all teaming up with some of Coulson's little team as well.

The excitement level in the room overpowered any apprehension that had been shown at Logan's reckless and possibly self-sacrificing play, though it hadn't missed Scott's notice and as the group at large was starting to make plans for this Hydra leader or that one, Scott was watching Logan as he let out a breath and sunk into his chair out of everyone's focus.

* * *

 **Charles Xavier**

 **Former 3rd Victor of the Avenger Games**

* * *

"You look troubled, old friend," Erik said as he rested his hand on Charles' shoulder. "And now is not the time to look so melancholy. It's finally working. The revolution is _successful_. Thanos and his ilk have been overthrown, our own home districts are putting up a spectacular fight, and — loathe though I am to admit it — our little director … isn't entirely worthless."

Charles couldn't help but smirk at that. "You'd have preferred that he'd failed in this press for freedom?" Charles had to ask, looking up and watching Erik until his old friend took a seat near the window with him where they could easily start their chess game.

It had been _ages_ since the two of them had been able to simply share a moment to play a strategic game or two.

"Preferred failure? Me?" Erik asked, his eyebrows practically brushing his hairline. The downturned arch to his lips made his expression _almost_ believably innocent as Erik shook his head lightly. "That doesn't sound like something I'd _prefer._ "

"Erik," Charles said, his smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "You were the most outspoken against him."

Erik shrugged lightly as the two of them took a long moment to stare at the board before, finally, Erik glanced at Charles and made the first move, breaking from the usual pawn to open by moving his knight instead. As always. "I may have been a bit hasty." Charles smirked wider at that, and after a glance to his old friend, Erik quickly schooled his expression to one that was far sterner. "Really, Charles. You can't fault me for that. The boy had barely made it a year as a victor. And he was so clearly emotional in the Capitol. I had no idea you were so _close_ to him to know his mind." He paused and gave Charles a more significant look, clearly fishing for information.

Charles held Erik's gaze, his hand hovering over his first piece, though after a moment, Charles' lip twitched, and he shifted to a different counter-opening that had Erik frowning outright. "Nicholas Fury did have me spend a bit of time with him while we were in the Capitol after his tour," Charles admitted, which had Erik's entire body language shifting.

"And you never told me." Erik sounded righteously betrayed.

"He needed a proper analysis of the boy to be sure that, mentally, he'd be able to weather the storm should this very situation arise sooner than Fury had expected," Charles said before he leaned forward slightly. "It was never his intention for it to be the case so _soon_. Fury thought he'd be leading the revolution himself."

"And?" Erik said, matching Charles' body language as he, too, leaned forward and then pointedly moved his next piece.

"And…" Charles frowned slightly as he looked down his nose at the chessboard and then made his move. "...I don't believe that I can share intimate details with you on the young man."

For an instant, Erik stared at Charles before he broke out laughing, entirely amused. "You've grown fond of him. And you're _worried_."

"He's only _nineteen_ ," Charles defended.

"Yes, and he's more than exceeded any successes any of us have had in toppling the Capitol."

"In all fairness," Charles pointed out, "much of that was by SHIELD's doing. Logan is simply running the war."

"Winning, Charles," Erik said as he made his move, capturing one of Charles' pawns. "Your _fragile_ little friend is _winning_ what all have said for most of our lives is an unwinnable war."

Charles frowned and then narrowed his eyes as he watched Erik. "It sounds as though you, too, have grown fond of the boy."

Erik's smile widened for just a moment as he held Charles' gaze, then faded as quickly as it had appeared. "I'm simply enjoying the state of the nation." He shrugged as he watched the board. The game, to an outside observer, would seem to be quite calm and even relaxing, but the pieces on the board told a different story entirely.

The two old friends were silent for a long moment, making one move after another, quickly shifting the power on the board from white to black almost seamlessly. An aggressive-looking attack from Erik yielded quickly and shifted into a strong defense as Charles took a more subtle and less fragile attack route … only to shift his strategy to protect his king when Erik found a chink that Charles clearly thought had been well-guarded.

It went on for nearly twenty minutes until finally, unmercifully, it was clear that the two of them had met at a draw. They both stared at the board, looking for some kind of missed route, but … there was no way to win for either of them. And finally, they were forced to admit as much.

At almost the same time, both men let out a breath and sat back to look at each other rather than their pieces. "That … isn't something we've done often," Erik said, almost smiling as he said it.

"No," Charles agreed with a mild grin. "It was a rather enjoyable game, old friend."

But it was clear Charles wasn't entirely focused on the game as his pleasant expression shifted and the two of them parted ways, giving Charles the time and privacy to consider their conversation.

Of course Erik was pleased with Logan's progress in the field. The boy was aggressive to a fault and more tenacious than Charles had ever anticipated. That tenacity was bleeding into not only his strategy, which was expected, but into the troops' morale, too. Prepared or not, Logan _was_ leading the country by an example that was simply unrelenting in the desire to win, as if he simply saw no other option.

But behind that tenacity, in the quieter moments between briefings and incoming intel, Charles had seen that Logan wasn't as stable as he should be in a position of so much power. And this newest move to go and play bait for Viper had Charles more than a little concerned. Logan had been suicidal when he'd come to the Capitol, and though Charles had been sure that Logan had gotten the intervention he'd needed … he was also very certain that Logan had never quite shaken that particular demon from his back. He couldn't help but be concerned that the young man was purposely putting himself in harm's way as a means to relieve himself of the heavy duty on his shoulders — hoping that his luck would run out.

But that … didn't really line up with what Charles knew of Viper. The woman was positively obsessed with Logan, and though Charles knew Ophelia Sarkissian to do a great many things, wasting someone she could use certainly didn't fit her modus operandi.

It was more likely, Charles thought, that Logan would find himself captive to Viper rather than dead if something went wrong. He paused as he considered it. _Unless, of course, he has a plan for that, too_.

But Charles didn't have long enough to consider the implications when someone interrupted his thoughts with a cheerful, "Hey, Charles!" from around the corner, and Charles looked up to see Dick waving as he made his way over.

"Mr. Grayson," Charles responded with a warm smile. "What can I do for you today?"

"Well, honestly, my dad sent me here," Dick admitted, shrugging and putting his hands in his pockets. "Said he'd make Alfred lock me in a closet to keep me from going into the field if I tried to go without a psych eval after… everything."

"That sounds a bit drastic," Charles laughed. "Remind me to have him oversee everyone _else_ under my care as well."

"Hey, that's Bruce," Dick said, still somehow maintaining his easy smile.

"So, what are your concerns?" Charles asked.

" _Bruce's_ concerns," Dick corrected him. "He's not thrilled with me running right back out there."

"And why is that, exactly? Is he holding the others from your little group to the same standard?" Charles asked.

"The others aren't exactly — he's not _their_ father," Dick pointed out, though he paused and then held up his hands, pulling back the sleeves to show where the new rope burns were, as well as a purple bruise in the crook of his elbow where Viper had administered her drug. "I mean, I get it. But I can't sit still either."

Charles nodded lightly and gestured to a nearby chair. "Please, have a seat and tell me what happened and if it's caused you any trouble you can see so far. I know it's a bit early to know for sure, but still…"

Dick shook his head, a dry look crossing his expression that for the first time showed he'd been raised by Bruce Wayne. "Yeah, it's caused me trouble. Of course it has. But that's … not the point."

"I believe that's exactly the point your father's trying to make. So let's talk about it and find a way to help you get beyond it."

Dick bit his lip. "Alright, tell you what. I'll give you the basics, but we're about to do this big push, so we don't have time for a whole sit-down. I just need you to tell me I'm not going to go _crazy_ mid-mission — and I promise I'll have more time after this push, 'kay?"

"Do you know which district you're headed off to?"

Dick nodded. "District One," he said. "Not far from the Capitol — which may or may not be why we went with that. Just in case Logan needs backup."

Charles nodded. "Then you don't have too far of a flight from here. We have a few minutes, though I agree on both counts. We don't have the luxury of a full session, and I'm very sure that Logan will need backup."

Dick smirked at that. "So, help me calm Bruce down long enough for me to give Logan backup?" he offered.

Charles smirked at that. "I can't do that until you tell me what happened — even if it's a quick version."

Dick shrugged, and though the motion was careless, his expression wasn't. "Straightforward enough," he said in a falsely upbeat tone. "Last time we talked, I thought I was going insane. Good news? It was Jack playing mind games. Bad news? It was Jack." He gestured to his wrists. "And then Viper."

"Then at least you know your mind is sound enough that you weren't hallucinating." Charles couldn't help but be relieved at that himself. "But Viper… what exactly happened?"

Dick shrugged again, the same motion as before. "I don't know," he said. "I was drugged."

"Do you know what she drugged you with — or if there are any adverse long term effects?"

"I already got checked over," Dick said. "Medical knows all about it."

"That's not answering my question, Dick."

"Well, I'm an acrobat, not a doctor, Charles."

Charles let out a patient breath. "Viper has been known to use many different drugs and poisons. If you could tell me what they said about it — or any warnings they might have given you — that would help me immensely."

Dick shrugged again. "They said it had worn off and that I'd burn any lingering stuff off in the next few hours," he said. "And I got a relatively clean bill of health, anyway. I mean, we all came back banged up — Sin's worst off with her hand, though. At least Viper didn't _break_ anything with me."

It was painfully clear that was a sticking point. Dick didn't want to talk about this particular subject right at the moment, but that only had Charles focused on it more. "But she did something to you," Charles surmised. "That you don't want to talk about _right now_."

"Yeah, well, it's a whole can of worms that, well, like I said…. I want to get back to the team…"

Charles watched him for a long time, clearly not happy about the whole situation. "Dick, if I sign off on you for this mission, I need to have your promise that you'll be more open with me upon your return — and that you _will_ return."

"Hey, do I look like someone that heartless?" Dick said, putting a hand on his heart. "It would kill Alfred if I got caught again."

"Yes, well. If you knew how troubled I was with others in your age group right now, you'd know it's a perfectly valid concern." Charles let out a breath. "Whatever it is you don't want to talk about, it's not going to go away, and it's not going to get any easier if you simply ignore it. Promise me that when you return — _when_ you return — you'll step back long enough from running out into danger to get through whatever it is you're pushing off."

Dick paused at that. "Does… does it make a difference if I tell you I already talked with Logan _and_ Bruce about it? Because I did."

Charles' shoulders dropped slightly at that. "Believe it or not, it does," he conceded.

"Okay, well, how about this, then: I promise we'll have a sit-down and we'll go over the whole shebang _after_ I get back from One. That good enough?"

"Yes, I think so," Charles said. "Thank you for telling me that you've at least talked to someone, even if that's likely why your father is so upset."

"Yeah, well..." Dick hedged. "Well, he's probably seeing what you're seeing with Logan. And I guess I'm the kid he can actually order to therapy, y'know?"

Charles couldn't help but smile at that. "You're more right than you know, Dick, though I don't know how much it would ease his mind to know that I'm fairly sure I know already what Logan's working on."

"You're not the only one," Dick said. "Don't worry; Hel's on the team. If you think my sister — who is a whole head and shoulders smarter than me — doesn't know what to look for and doesn't have nine different plans for how to try and stop it? You're not smart enough for me to go to therapy with you," he teased, finally breaking into a genuine laugh.

"It's a shame your father can't hold more sway with Logan," Charles said with a little smirk.

"Oh, yeah. The way Bruce tells it, we'd all be better off if we just did what he said," Dick laughed.

"All parents feel that way," Charles replied before he tipped his chin up. "Good luck with your mission. Try to keep yourself safe as hard as you try to keep others safe."

"How about: if I'm in trouble, it means I got the rest out?" Dick offered, though there was a playful spark in his gaze. "I've got some of the youngest in my group, you know."

"I have had quite enough with self-sacrificing boys from Seven lately, Mr. Grayson."

"It's a curse," Dick said, already walking backward with his hands out and a crooked grin on his face. "Even Babs is that way — you know her, right?"

"Yes, but now I'm going to want to know what it is that makes your whole _district_ like this."

"I look forward to the scholarly paper!" Dick laughed over his shoulder before he waved and took off at a run to catch up to his friends.


	48. Chapter 48: Hawkeye and Hawkeye

**(A/N): Onwards with the Hydra fighting! This time around... aww, Hawkeyes!**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who have reviewed and supported each other, and thanks to Slim Summers2002 (we also love Scott and Babs) and TheRaspberryVigilante41 (yes, Logan is now a Robin _Wade says not takesiebacksies_ ).**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Eight - Hawkeye and Hawkeye**

 **Kate Bishop**

 **The Princess Bar, In the Capitol**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square holes. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do."  
_ ― Rob Siltanen

* * *

It felt _good_ to have a bow back in her hands.

Kate kept running her fingers over the bow, holding it in her lap almost reverently. She hadn't realized how much she missed this, how much she had _enjoyed_ being out in the world with her bow and a mission, until she was right back in it.

She had to keep reminding herself that she was on a mission for SHIELD — for _Logan_ — and not for Hydra, though. Every time she could feel herself slipping back into that mode, starting to become the good little weapon Hydra had asked her to be, she would look up and see Clint close by. He'd shoot her a grin or knock shoulders with her — and that was enough to get her back on solid ground.

She really, _really_ wanted to be able to do this more often. But she knew she couldn't lose herself to it. She had to be careful. Especially because this was _Viper_ they were going after.

Kate knew that Viper had been the catalyst for her sisters to take her and run. She could remember through a sort of haze that Sin had gotten upset with Viper for threatening to take over on Kate where Kilgrave had left off. And that in itself was a good motivator for Kate to want her dead.

Not to mention everything Logan had told her about what Viper had done to _him_ …

It was just that… well, now that Kate was on a mission, it was hard not to slip into her old mindset. Not just the one that Hydra had forced her into but the one that had her heart pounding with the thrill of an adventure. Her own excitement was bleeding into her past with Hydra, and she hadn't quite figured out how to separate those two things in her mind.

"You alright, Hawkeye?" Clint asked, and Kate felt his hand on her shoulder before she even looked up at him. "If you need to stay put…"

"I'm alright," she said, though the drop in her stomach was only partly because they were circling lower and approaching the drop point. "I can handle it."

"Kate—"

"I can _handle_ it, Clint," Kate said, more firmly this time. "I'm just nervous, not compromised."

Clint smiled at that and gave her arm a squeeze. "Just looking out for you — you know that, right?"

"I know that's your job."

Clint rolled his eyes and bumped shoulders with her as the transport landed. "Not just a job, Katie Kate. I actually like you and want you to come out of this with your mind still right."

Kate couldn't help but smile at him for that. "Yeah. You're not so bad yourself."

"Ringing endorsement."

Kate laughed and pinched his arm. "Okay, so you're one of my best friends. Better?"

"Much."

But for as ridiculous as Kate thought Clint was being, she had to admit… he was exactly what she needed to loosen up as the two of them headed to find a perch so they could get a birds' eye view of Logan and Viper's meeting. She hadn't been able to banter like this with her sisters in Hydra on any mission, even if they'd been able to banter during training. Talking… helped. A lot.

They had just settled in when they caught sight of Viper and her guards, along with Jessica Drew. Viper looked overly pleased with herself as she ordered her guards around, preparing for Logan's arrival by covering any possible exit and making sure he would be good and surrounded. And that had Kate narrowing her eyes, Logan's stories of what Viper did to him rocketing around in the back of her mind.

By the time Viper's men had gotten into position and she was ready and waiting, Logan had arrived as well, and Kate was pleased to see that he at least had his wits about him, looking suspicious of the layout and eyeing all the possible exits as he approached.

Viper, on the other hand, looked like she was practically salivating, and Kate felt her stomach tighten when she saw it. Knowing what she did… knowing that Viper would take Logan and twist him up the same way Kilgrave had twisted her…

Her hands tightened around her bow, and she had to force herself to relax. If she was too tense, she wouldn't be as accurate. And with something this important, she couldn't afford to be anything but her best.

"Look at you," Viper crowed as she took a few steps closer to Logan, drinking him in with her gaze in a manner that was uncomfortably… hungry. "Such obedience."

Logan frowned deeper at her — and Kate gripped her bow tighter — but didn't give her any other signal as to his thoughts on the matter. "You didn't really want me to come here to _talk_ ," he said. "So cut the crap and tell me what you want."

Viper laughed, a delighted sound that Kate had only heard a few times before, usually when someone _died_. "Right down to business," she agreed, reaching to a pocket at her hip.

Kate's eyes widened; she took in a breath that she didn't realize was audible until her ears rang with it, and she had to hope no one had heard it. She knew what those darts could do, knew the rumors about all the different poisons Viper had at her fingertips.

Logan was fast, pulling his claws out to slash through one of the darts — but Jessica was in his blind spot and had moved along with Viper. Kate could see the bright green dart sticking out of Logan's leg at the same time she heard Helena swearing over the comms and saw the Hydra guard who had stepped forward to try to take Logan into custody go down with one of Helena's arrows in his throat.

Viper was almost snarling as she ordered her men to find the archer responsible, but that just started up a volley from the others… except Kate. Kate was watching Viper, tracking her movements, waiting for the right shot… Viper was walking closer to Logan now as he struggled to stay upright, his claws out still as he made it clear he'd make her regret it if she came any closer while he was still conscious, but Kate wanted to be _sure_ it was a kill shot; she wanted to get it right...

 _Bang_.

Kate froze, her arrow still drawn back, the string resting against her nose, her hand at her chin… and the gunshot still ringing in her ears long after Viper had dropped to the ground.

She had been completely prepared to take Viper out herself. She had the shot… But… Logan had said that he wanted archers to get past the metal detectors and the way the place was laid out. That shot? That was a sniper shot. A one-in-a-million shot through a window from a distance far enough to beat the metal detectors.

Someone was out there with a gun. Someone _good_. And it had Kate on edge.

 _Unknown assailant. Direct threat to the primary…_

Kate blinked and then shifted her focus, her gaze finding Logan on his knees on the ground as the Hydra soldiers shouted their orders for him to freeze while others searched for the gunman. She started to breathe again, cycling each breath until her heart stopped thrumming in her ears and she was more focused, ready to take the shot.

Logan would never see it coming.

* * *

 **Clint Barton**

 **A Few Yards from Kate Bishop**

* * *

Clint had seen it the moment Kate had switched from herself into something else. It wasn't even the way she changed her aim; it was a strange, almost glassy look and vacant smile that settled over her in a _very_ creepy and un-Kate-like fashion.

And then, when he followed her line of sight…

"Woah, Katie," Clint said, scrambling over to grab her bow at the last second and mess up her shot so that she killed a Hydra agent instead of Logan when she did release her arrow. "You don't want to do that."

Kate narrowed her eyes as she yanked her bow back. "Stay out of this."

"Um, no," Clint said, keeping one hand on the bow all the same. "You _asked_ me to do this for you, remember? C'mon, Katie Kate. You gonna switch sides just like that?"

For just a moment, Kate looked _furious_ with him — but when he refused to drop her gaze or her bow, she paused, and he could see exactly when she started trying to fight it again, because she looked almost pained and then screwed her eyes shut, like she was trying to block out all other input as she tried to get a hold of herself.

"Katie?"

"Yeah," Kate said softly. "Yeah, I know. I just… I wasn't expecting anyone to shoot Viper and…"

Clint could see Helena and Thea taking down Hydra soldiers with extreme prejudice just beyond them, but he didn't take his focus off of Kate. "And now?" he prompted her. "You back? Or do I need to take you away from the guys in green?"

"I can do it," Kate said, though her voice was shaky.

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She took a few steadying breaths before she opened her eyes again. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Clint said, shaking his head. "I know that's gotta be hard, fighting them in your head _and_ in person." He smirked and then gestured to the fight below them. "Speaking of…"

Kate looked where he was pointing to see that the other two archers on the mission were already kicking butt without them, and Clint almost laughed when he saw her go from scared to insulted in a half second. "Oh no; they can't hog all the revenge!"

"Atta girl," Clint laughed, letting go of her bow at last so the two of them could dive in together — though he kept a close eye on her all the same and never let her get too far out of sight. He had a tranquilizer arrow if it came down to it, but he really, _really_ didn't want to use it.

But he couldn't help feeling a little proud as he watched Kate go to town. The one good thing that Hydra had done for her was training — and it _showed_. She was flawless in her execution, even firing off a couple arrows at once, and Clint let out a little whoop of a laugh before he burst into action with her, covering her back until it was almost a competition.

For the most part, it was pretty good target practice — and he could see that Helena had taken care of covering Logan so no one tried to kidnap the new director while he was drugged. But the competition Kate and Clint had going on was sidetracked a bit when they heard Thea call out close by, "Oh no you don't!"

Both Hawkeyes turned in time to see Thea take Jessica Drew out in a _flying_ tackle. And judging by the look on Jess' face, she was just as shocked by the teeny missile as Kate and Clint were when they saw it.

"Get off of me!" Jessica shouted, squirming to get loose, but Thea was clearly a lot harder to fight off than she looked.

"Not a chance," Thea said, locking her legs around Jessica's knees. "See, I had a little chat with my friend Kory, and she told me all about how you were _helping_ Viper torture my friends. You're going to have to answer for that."

Clint raised his eyebrows and glanced between Thea and Kate. Kate seemed to be doing just fine on her own, whereas Thea was struggling to keep Jess contained… And when Jess reached for her pocket and Clint saw the feathered tip of a dart that she had to have gotten from her twisted mentor, Clint made his decision and grabbed the tranquilizing arrow meant for Kate.

Jess cried out when the arrow struck home, but that stuff was fast-acting — it had to be, in case Kate was a danger to herself or others. In no time, Jess was in a heap on the ground, and Thea was working fast to get her tied up so she couldn't hurt anyone when she woke up.

"Thanks for the assist," Thea called out to Clint.

He grinned and flashed her a thumbs up before he went back to Kate, who was running out of arrows at the same rate they were running out of targets. With Viper dead and Jessica captured, it seemed like no one in Hydra was that interested in a martyr's death, so they were in a full retreat.

Kate was still firing after them as they ran, and Clint frowned as he made his way over and put a hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly, and he made a move to grab her bow if he had to… But recognition flashed in her gaze, and she dropped her shoulders. "Oh. Hey, Clint."

"You did great, Katie Kate."

"Do you have to call me that?"

"Aww, but if I don't give you a nickname, how do you know I love you?" Clint teased.

Kate rolled her eyes but couldn't hide her smile as she shoved him in the shoulder. "You're ridiculous, Hawkeye."

"Just the way God made me, Hawkeye." Clint grinned her way until she laughed at him. "I'm going to help Helena with our friend the director. Think you can help Thea with Jess — or are you going to freak out again?"

Kate bit her lip and glanced toward Logan, and Clint saw her gaze flash with fear all over again. "I almost—"

"Woah." Clint quickly grabbed her shoulders to turn her his way. "No going down that road, alright? You didn't hurt anyone you didn't come here to hurt. That's why I was assigned with you. And you did fine. You just had a hiccough, and that's _fine_."

"But—"

"Hey, I'm not going to let you hurt anyone. This was your _first_ mission. Ever. Anything you ran before this was stuff you did as not-Kate, alright? I think you're allowed to make a few missteps on your _first ever mission_."

Kate bit her lip as she thought it over, though he could see the smile tugging at her mouth despite her best efforts. "I guess," she said at last, slowly.

Clint grinned. "Great. Then you help Thea, I'll help Helena, and when we get back to Seven, I think I'll kiss Tasha. All this hero work has me feeling like I need to do something bold and brave — what do you think?"

Kate couldn't stop her laugh as she headed toward Thea. "It's about time, Clint. Seriously. You two have been circling each other as long as I've known you."

"Glad to have your approval, Katie Kate," Clint sang out before he all but skipped over to Helena, still grinning to himself.

After all, the mission had gone well… _And_ he'd managed to cheer Kate up and get her thinking about something other than Hydra and brainwashing and mission work. Now, he just had to get up the courage to actually follow through on what he'd told Kate he'd do…

* * *

 **Kate Bishop**

* * *

Kate couldn't help but watch both of the unconscious people in the transport. She'd set her bow aside — she was too scared that she might pick it up again and try to use it against Logan — but she was still running her hands over her knees in the same calming gesture she would use if she had the bow back.

Viper was dead, but Logan was drugged. Helena hadn't left his side and was keeping a steady eye on his vitals, and she'd _said_ that he was breathing normally and everything, but…

But she'd almost _shot_ him.

Thankfully, Kate didn't have too long to dwell on it before Thea Queen dropped into the seat next to her, glaring across the jet at the still-unconscious Jessica. "You know the only reason I didn't shoot her was she wasn't in charge," Thea said conversationally.

Kate blinked, not at all expecting to be addressed. "What?"

"I've been stuck with Hydra for a while now, and I'm starting to get the idea that no one who isn't in charge or _trying_ to be in charge is there willingly," Thea said. "At least… no one with any real power. The soldiers? That's a different story." Thea let out a breath and looked Kate's way. "That makes sense, right?"

For a moment, Kate stared at Thea, her lips slightly parted. She had to wonder if Thea knew Kate's situation — or even just part of it. But when Thea looked like she was being completely forthright, Kate let out a breath and nodded. "I used to be a Hydra operative too. Not by choice."

"Like I said, that seems to be the pattern." Thea shook her head. "So… if it turns out Miss Drew is getting tugged along on puppet strings, I'd rather not shoot her. I'm… I'm _trying_ to be less like my father. Less like Hydra."

Kate frowned at that. "Your dad…?"

"Malcolm Merlyn," Thea said.

"I don't… really know who that is, sorry," Kate said.

"He was in Hydra," Thea said, though something in her voice had shifted. "He… threatened a little kid to get me into the Games, and, well, I guess that came back to bite him."

Something in Thea's tone… Kate couldn't ignore it. All of a sudden, anything Hydra-related simply left her mind, and Kate found herself scooting closer until she had a hand on Thea's arm. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "It's always hard to lose someone. Especially family, even when they're stupid. And trust me: I know about awful dads, even if mine didn't threaten any little kids." She paused and gave Thea a smile. "Well, that I know of."

Thea gave Kate a little smile at that, and then she let out a laugh that started as a breath through her lips and turned into a chuckle that became a full laugh as soon as she put voice to it. "Okay, I like you," she said.

Kate smiled at that and held out her hand. "Kate Bishop," she said. "I know we were sort of introduced in the briefing, but… hi."

Thea smiled and took Kate's hand. "Thea Queen. Also hi."

"It's nice to meet someone else ready to give Hydra a revenge-fueled black eye. We should really start a club," Kate said.

"More like a country," Thea said, shaking her head. "Those guys are creeps."

"No kidding," Kate said. "I'm _glad_ they're dying out."

Thea nodded and leaned back, though she missed the change in Kate's expression… Because as soon as the words had left Kate's mouth, she realized she really _meant_ them. Not just as a promise to herself as she fought against their brainwashing, not just as a mantra to try and keep them out of her head…

But now? Kate actually wanted it. And she wanted it for herself. She wanted Hydra gone, so they could never bother anyone again, so no one else would ever have to wonder if they would have killed a good friend for those creeps just because of a moment of weakness.

It was like a lightbulb had gone off. Maybe it had been the fact that Thea was out of Hydra and seemed so _normal_ ; maybe it had been the shock of almost killing Logan again; maybe it had been building all this time with all the work she and Kurt and Clint and America and everyone had been doing.

It was just weird that it took a mission and _Thea Queen_ to get her there.


	49. Chapter 49: Little Acts of Heroism

**(A/N): Just a reminder: You really can't expect** _ **anything**_ **in any given chapter, since as we've explained in the past, these are done well ahead of the posting date, and if the author dropped in the first book, the chances of seeing them here are not even measurable. Any ship lip service given is because we think it fits in the story/themes at large, but clearly, this isn't a Clintasha story. We hope you're enjoying the storylines we're weaving through otherwise, too. We've put a lot of work into ALL of the storylines, every one of them, and our current writers pour their heart and souls into the story. We're proud of them and want to celebrate every single one of them. It's alright to have favorites, but it's disheartening for the many, many writers who have worked to make this story as amazing as it is when there is such a focus on a ship and/or storyline that is at best a B Plot when there is so much good writing in the rest of the story too. Please be considerate.**

 **All that being said, we really do appreciate the support and the reviews. This has been a monumental task, with our writers giving us year and years of their time and talents, so to hear how much the story as a whole is cherished really does make the care we've poured into it worth it.**

 **To our guest: Logan would suggest letting Jubilee and Noh pick the playlist for Viper's funeral. There would likely be a disco ball with those two in charge and plenty of celebrating.**

 **To Malfoy's Nimbus: Thank you very much for the compliment. We'll be sad to see this story end too ;)**

 **To TheRaspberryVigilante: We definitely love seeing all those girls kicking butt, and we're glad that you enjoyed Thea's morality in this story. After everything that girl went through with her weird family dynamics, we wanted to give her a heroic moment too.**

 **And to SlimSummers2002: We also love anytime someone is about to shoot Viper ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Forty-Nine - Little Acts of Heroism**

 **Wade Wilson formerly of District One**

 **The Capitol**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _If I were the blushing kind, I would blush to be called a hero." - Aung San Suu Kyi_

* * *

Wade's ears were still ringing as the smoke curled out of the end of the sniper rifle. He still had his eye to the glass, watching the scene as it unfolded and waiting for Viper or anyone else to make a move.

It had only taken a couple of seconds — the whole thing was just a fast moving _mess_ — and Wade was honestly hoping that he hadn't flinched and done exactly what Logan had originally asked him to do. But with both Logan and Viper down, it was hard to tell for sure what had happened in the flurry of movement once the shot had been made.

"Didja get 'er?" Harley asked, wide-eyed in an almost excited tone. But when Wade didn't reply more than to rack in another round and wait … "Didja get _him_?"

"No," Wade said almost distractedly. "She nailed him with a dart — or her little flying monkey Spider-girl did."

"Spidah- _woman_ ," Harley corrected.

"Yeah, her. She's kinda nuts," Wade said.

"No kiddin', followin' Viper?" Harley let out a whistle and then picked up the binoculars Wade had handed her earlier to give her something to do. "Holy jeez, it's really wild down there. Think you can shoot another one of 'em?"

Which was, of course, what Wade was already looking to see … "Not with how mixed up they are. It'd be my luck our Huntress would step out at the wrong second and I'd start a brand new civil war in District Seven." As the words left his mouth, Helena had indeed stepped into the fray, which put her in the target zone. With a frown, Wade unloaded the rifle and started breaking it down to put in the case. "Viper's dead anyhow." He lifted his gaze to look out over the rooftops around them, searching for a threat. "Hopefully, she didn't kill our Wolvie before I dropped her. At any rate, we need to pack up and get back to Seven."

"Wait, I thought we was gonna pick up the other half of the moo-lah and head off inta tha sunset?" Harley said as she started helping him pack up. "Red's waitin' in the jet an' everything."

"Yeah, about that, snookums," Wade said as he shouldered the rifle case, then leaned over to give her a little kiss. "I'm gonna have to set him straight."

"He's gonna be _pissed_."

"Yeah, well that was the case no matter what," Wade replied with a tight smile. "Too bad for him."

"You _sure_ we gotta go back?" Harley said, almost pleadingly.

"Lovebug, I know you're worried about your perfectly precious petunia, but I need to make sure my lil' Wolverine isn't going to snap, too. Sure, we're not as close as you girls are, but you know how those tough guys are. It's harder for us to say the things that really matter. But I'm telling you: The whole state of our little universe will be much worse for everyone around him if he gives up on himself _more_ than he already has." Wade took a hold of Harley's hand and pulled her along with him, leading her down the alleys and paths all the way back to their transport. "Lil guy thinks he's a solitary creature."

"That is just delusional," Harley said, rolling her eyes, though she didn't argue with him. "He's gotta be one of the most popular people in Marvel."

"Right? That's what I'm saying!" Wade grinned at her, and Harley returned the grin with a giggle, totally ignoring the shouts echoing up from blocks down.

Hydra was swarming, moving in to where the big meeting had gone down, but they weren't getting too close with the little pockets of _highly-_ trained SHIELD agents picking them off outside The Princess Bar.

Wade pulled Harley into an alley, and as gunfire broke out, she leapt up to wrap her arms around his neck and steal a kiss, only for Agent Triplett to break up their makeout session when he called out to them from across the street. "What are you two fools doing _here_?"

"Just protecting the director!" Wade called back.

"No way. Nah. You weren't on that detail!" Trip called back, looking confused.

"No, no, I was. He hired me."

"He hired _us!"_ Harley corrected, and Wade nodded, pointing at her as she blew Trip a kiss.

Trip paused and turned back to Wade from behind cover. " _Hired_ you? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"That he loves me and trusts me more than he does you?" Wade called back, then took a tighter hold on Harley's arm and rushed out of their hiding spot. " _Notimetotalkcatchyoulater_!"

"Wait!" Trip called out. "You need to explain that last part!"

Harley was giggling madly as they made their final rush to escape the Capitol, and once they were back to their ride and safely in the air, Wade gave Harley a little kiss. "Would you do me a solid, my spicy little snickerdoodle, and please, please tell Ivy _why_ I need to go back to Seven for one final grand gesture of devotion?"

"Well when you put it like that," Harley said, then left a fresh lip print on his cheek before she bounced back to talk to Ivy. And while she was on that detail, Wade picked up the comm to call back to 'base'. He paused, listening to the channel to make sure he wasn't cutting into anyone, before he spoke.

"Deadpool to Den Mother," Wade said in an even, perfectly businesslike tone. Which, he realized belatedly, would be a marker for anyone that knew him. "Permission to enter airspace."

"Not sure why you're asking," Skye replied, though she sounded annoyed. "You're still on our side, aren't you?"

"Hey, you're not the Den Mother," Wade said in a chiding tone. "Where's Coulson?"

Skye's tone was almost amused at that. "On a _mission_ ," she said. "And that's not his call sign."

"Should be."

"True that. What's with the permission, DP? I'm a little swamped right now."

"Ah, yeah, well … I sorta quit the secret boy band. I wasn't getting my share of the groupies and ass grabs, so I thought it might be best to ask before I got shot out of the sky?"

Skye made a soft noise at the back of her throat before she sighed heavily. "There's kind of a lot going on right now, DP, I don't have time to—"

"Viper's dead," Wade said, cutting across her. "Confirmed kill. She's not an issue. Thought _you'd_ want to know"

He held his breath while he waited for Skye to respond with: "How do you _know_ that? Wait — are you the mystery sniper?"

"I'll explain when I get back, but … she's not an issue. I made sure of it." Wade's tone was gentle, and on telling someone, he felt for the moment as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Roger that, DP," Skye replied. "You know I'm going to want a full explanation on what's going on when you get here."

"Shouldn't I answer to Coulson?"

"You don't work for AC anymore, remember? But you did just cover _my_ detail, so I want to hear _everything_. You got it?"

"Roger that, ma'am. Over and out." He flipped off the comm and let out a breath. All that was left now was to get the girls a chance to clean up and then figure out what the next move was, and that, Wade decided, was probably going to be easier to do when sitting in a safe house well away from the remaining battles anyhow.

* * *

Naturally, Wade's plane landed in Seven long before the transport that was carrying Logan and his pack of archers, but even at that, the place was bustling with activity. Transports were taking off and landing like the airstrip was a beehive, and everyone involved was clearly highly anticipating what was going on around them.

"Looks like I picked the wrong time to quit," Wade said as he watched yet another grinning team loading up into their craft.

"Nah, looks ta me like you got out just in time," Harley argued, one arm resting on his shoulder as they walked through the SHIELD people coming and going.

When they got to the Howlett Estate up on the top of the hill on the north western side of town, it was just as busy. Almost everyone that had been hiding out was working on something or gone already, and Wade couldn't help but stare in awe at the motion around him.

 _ **You kinda wish you'd have sat in on that meeting now, don't you?**_

 _I kinda wish we would have. Didn't get much of a chance to see him do the big man in charge look that much._

 _ **And that is a pretty good look...**_

"True. But now is not the time," Wade muttered under his breath.

"False. It is _always_ the time," Harley argued before she popped up on her toes, pulled him around to face her, and stole a long, involved kiss that left Wade not only with lipstick smeared across his mouth, but also with Harley's bubblegum. "Me an' Red're gonna go get a little fresh air. Just run screamin' outta there if there's a problem, kay?"

"You got it," Wade said before he blew a big, pink bubble that had Harley giggling and Ivy shaking her head at the two of them. "Screaming and flailing. Bye, sweetness. I love you both."

He stared after them as they headed off, clearly caught up in the moment — until he caught sight of someone small and angry headed his way.

 _Oh look! The welcoming committee!_

 _ **She doesn't look very welcoming to me. Hey. I know she's supposed to be the director's bodyguard, but I don't remember Fury having a bodyguard that looked like that.**_

 _Upgrade. Better equal opportunity policies. What's a guy gotta do to get a bodyguard with a body like that anyhow?_

Wade grinned as Skye made it the last few steps. But even as he started to say hello, she punched him in the shoulder _hard_. "You were _not_ cleared to be there!" Skye said as she hit him in the shoulder several more times for emphasis. "You're not supposed to take _money_ from SHIELD, either! Which I want to know how much he promised you, too! And if you wanted in on this mission, you should have just … I don't know ... gone to a meeting and said so ... not … _ugh_!"

"Easy on the assault, beautiful," Wade defended as Skye hit him with more damaging blows. "First of all, SHIELD didn't hire me, _Logan_ did. All terms and agreements between the party of the stabby part and the party of the bang-bang part are exclusively limited to discussion betwixt said party people." Wade had his hands up to deflect any more hits Skye had with his name on them, but she was pressing forward with more training than he realized she had all the way up until she dropped him flat and stuck an icer in his face. "And second of all … I didn't … exactly do this like he wanted me to — and when did you learn how to do _that?_ "

Skye raised an eyebrow as she kept her icer pointed at him, and for a moment, Wade considered running screaming from the house. But before he could come up with a play, their discussion was interrupted.

"What _exactly_ was it that James hired you to do?"

Both Wade and Skye turned to see Bruce Wayne looking positively _livid_ as he seemed to have simply _appeared_ from the shadows. Wade let out a little 'eep' and got to his feet, hands up before he could control his reaction, though he quickly tried to cover, even dropping his voice a little and clearing his throat. "Ah, hi there. I'm Wade—"

"Answer the question," Bruce said through gritted teeth.

Wade glanced around, noting several SHIELD personnel and staff members watching the spectacle, and immediately deflected. "Alright, I'll _let you_ interrogate me, but not out in the open. A guy needs a little privacy for things like that. Sensitive subject matter … I'm sure there's a strip search at some point. I'd prefer if you bought me dinner first—" Bruce shoved him toward the study with a scowl. "Or … you can just dive right in to manhandling. Warm up your hands too, jeez. Like you live in a cave. I said I'd tell you — you don't have to — _Hey."_

The door slammed shut behind Bruce and Skye, though Skye was almost as wide-eyed as Wade felt while she put her weapon away.

"Start explaining yourself," Bruce said in an even tone that somehow felt more demanding than it should have been for as softly as he was speaking.

Wade looked from Bruce to Skye and held up both hands in front of himself. "Okay, I might not be a seasoned merc, but I do know my rights—"

"Mercenaries don't _have_ any rights," Bruce said. "They're criminals. Start. Explaining."

"Okay..." Wade frowned at that. "But I look at it more like a soldier of fortune thing …"

" _Talk_."

"You know, this is _not_ the way to encourage people to open up," Wade said, crossing his arms over his chest before he looked around the room and realized where exactly he was. "But … is this Wolverine's _office_? That seems like such an unlikely set of words to string together…" He didn't wait for anyone to answer him before he made his way over to sit at the chair behind the desk and start spinning before quietly rifling through the drawers.

" _Deadpool_ ," Skye said, clearly not amused by him at _all_ , though even she seemed sunshiny compared to Bruce Wayne at the moment. "What. Happened."

Wade let out a breath and then held up one hand — though he kept searching the desk, if for no other reason than because it really seemed to irritate Bruce Wayne. "Alright! Logan hired me to make sure that Viper didn't get a hold of him. Only I didn't exactly want to take the job the way he was acting, but I _did_ because I know he would have found someone totally seedy and heartless. Probably the kind of guy that'd wear a giant _skull_ on his chest ... and I just didn't want to—" He stopped long enough to take a breath and then closed his mouth, shaking his head. "Nope."

"Why didn't he have you on the team?" Skye asked, arms crossed. "If it was to keep Viper off his back, you could have gone with them. And don't you _dare_ say it's because you weren't SHIELD anymore."

Wade's shoulders dropped as he looked between the two of them. "Hey. It's between me and him, alright? All you need to know is that there was no way I was going to let her touch him. He asked for my help, and that's what I did. Anything beyond that—"

"Why didn't he have one of SHIELD's snipers take the job?" Bruce asked as he took a few steps forward and rested his fingertips on the top of the desk. When Wade didn't answer right away, Bruce narrowed his eyes.

Wade froze and held Bruce's gaze.

 _Uh oh._

 _ **He's onto us**_ **.**

 _No, he's onto Wolverine._

 _ **Shouldn't have tried to hide it from Seven's greatest detective.**_

"Um. What was the question?" Wade said, blinking out of his inner conversation when he realized that both Skye and Bruce were still waiting for him. "Can I phone a friend?"

"You can't possibly be this stupid," Bruce said in an almost accusatory tone, still glaring at Wade.

"Hey," Wade said with a bit more force as he pointed a finger in Bruce's face, his tone dangerous and low as he continued, "don't underestimate me."

"Tell me you didn't let a suicidal person pay you to take them out," Bruce said at a matching tone.

Wade drew himself up importantly. "I am _offended._ I did no such thing. He hired me to keep Viper from getting him back to her love shack. He used those words. Nothing in there about suicide by Deadpool."

"Then if you were there to kill Viper, what did he want the battalion of archers for?" Skye asked.

"Listen. I was his personal backup to the backup," Wade said, crossing his arms. "And I'm pretty sure I shouldn't be telling you the dirty details of our private deals."

"Wade," Skye said looking somehow more serious. "Please."

"You're going to be fine." Wade pulled a drawer open and let out a delighted sort of sound. "Now. If you don't mind, I need to leave a little love note for my sweet little Wolverine."

"What's in the note?" Bruce asked, though he'd reached out to take a hold of Skye's arm.

Wade looked up at them both and dropped into a much more serious and quiet tone. "I'm refusing his money, okay? I just … I need to explain why. And I'd like to keep it between us if you two can control your territorial tendencies. You know … that or just go ahead and publicly proclaim how much he means to both of you." Wade waited as both Bruce and Skye did their level best to keep a neutral expression — though of course, Bruce did a much better job of it as he pulled a very red-faced Skye out of the room, pausing at the door.

"You have five minutes before I come back," Bruce warned.

"Got it," Wade agreed, finally getting down to what he'd come in for.

It took him a few long moments, but finally, Wade found himself carefully writing out a note.

 **Logan -**

 **I know you think we had a deal. And I know you expected me to be the low-life everyone says I am, but you know, it's like you said: you wanted me to step up. Be the hero that the world expects me to be. So that's what I did.**

 **I know you're going through your own personal kind of hell, and yeah, it's too much. It is. But how am I supposed to even pretend I'm anything like a good guy if I pulled the trigger on you? You can't see it, and I don't know if that's because you're taking on too much or if you really do have the worst self-image in the country, but … you have a lot of people in your corner pulling for you. Let them help. All of them.**

 **And another thing: take your own damn advice,** _ **Wolverine**_ **. Be the hero** _ **you're**_ **supposed to be. Not the one the world wants you to be, but the one you're** _ **supposed**_ **to be. Don't quit. You haven't quit anything yet. Don't pick this to start now.**

 **I know you're going to be ticked off when you get this, but I'm standing firm on this one. I did this right. Yeah, I might have let you down, but I didn't let down everyone else that's depending on you. So now it's your turn to do the same thing and set the example. No matter which way you pick? Everyone's going to be watching. And it will affect everyone.**

 **Smooches,**

 **D-Pool**

 **PS: Oh, and about the other half of the money? I don't want it. Not like you were expecting me to take it, anyhow. What I** _ **am**_ **doing is requisitioning a Quinjet instead. And I'll keep a comm on me. Just in case you want to tell me I was right, or if you want to invite me and my sweetie over for a slumber party, or you want to stick your claws up my nose. Whatever. A pleasure doing business with you, director. XOXO**

Wade folded the letter carefully and slipped it into an envelope, then wrote Logan's name on the front of it and kissed the back before he got up and left the note on his desk, sealed and waiting for whenever Logan returned to find it.

As it was, he could hear the transport coming in near the estate — which meant that Logan and his group were back, though he didn't expect Logan to be awake when he came in. If he was lucky, anyhow.

For now though ... there was likely a rousing game of hide and seek going on in the garden without him, and Wade was bound and determined to prove to Ivy that not all guys were rotten. He knew he'd have to show her that much if Harley was going to be happy, anyhow. And he loved it when she smiled.

As he got to his feet, he quietly made his way toward the back exit, headed for the garden. And the moment he stepped out of the door, he let out a mock scream under his breath and broke into a run with Harley's laughter dancing through the air from somewhere by the fence.


	50. Chapter 50: Best-Laid Plans

**(A/N): It's a Tuesday morning, and you know what that means! More awesomeness, this time from Abby Well!**

 **Thanks to our writers who reviewed as well as to Peliroja2012 for the review on the previous chapter. Thanks also to our rockstars, Slim Summers2002 and the RaspberryVigilante41, for being AMAZING. (TRV, that note wasn't for you; you do a STELLAR job of not playing favorites with your kindness while still having favorites. Much love. *mwuah*)**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty - Best-Laid Plans**

 **Pamela Isley, formerly of District Eleven**

 **The Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by Abby Well**

* * *

" _Revenge may be wicked, but it's natural." -William Makepeace Thackeray_

* * *

Ivy couldn't help but smirk in disbelief as she stood at the entrance to the Howlett Estate's imposing hedge maze. Two paths forked in different directions before her: a physical manifestation of the crossroads she faced, both tracks heading into unfamiliar darkness.

At the first opportunity, she'd crept away from everyone else, returning to the gardens. There was so much here she'd never seen before: flowers and plants whose names she didn't yet know; plants grown for no purpose other than how they looked in the space, which was something unheard of in Eleven. Everything in Eleven was put there with a purpose.

She had removed her shoes and socks to walk barefoot across the grass, breathing in the unfamiliar scents. It refreshed her from the inside out. She'd felt the crinkle between her eyebrows smooth itself into nothing, felt her shoulders sink down away from her ears. It was nice to be alone. Much as she loved Harley and loved spending time with Harley, she had always been a fairly solitary creature, and the events of the past few days had all been a bit… much.

She needed time to regroup. As cutting back a climbing rose and letting it handle itself for a while would result in new growth, so would she need a rest before venturing off again. She was still trying to process everything; her mind hadn't yet come to terms with what she'd done to the Joker, and that was before she even dared think again about saving the lives of people who wanted to kill her, breaking into Viper's nest, or working with a mentally unstable mercenary from One who apparently had enough faith in her capacity to murder that he'd given her the weapon to finish the job.

Oh, and Harley was alive. Still couldn't quite believe that one either.

She turned away from the maze to instead lean against it and look out across the rest of the estate, absently twisting some of her curls together with her fingers as her gaze swept over the green. Over this side, it was much more structured, with coordinated flowerbeds and distinct paths cutting the lawns into aesthetically pleasing chunks, but as she traveled further away from the house, it all started to shift, almost imperceptibly, until the natural order overwhelmed the order of man. She loved it all.

But she'd have to leave, wouldn't she? She couldn't stay here, not when her children were still waiting for her and Eleven was supposedly now a war-torn hellscape. While she hadn't spent a lot of time inside the house since they'd come here, the whispers were impossible to avoid. The war had broken Eleven, and it scared her. What if she returned, only to find that everything she'd come for was already gone?

She didn't want to think about it. Too much pain had already come for her, hollowing out her core, and while vengeful fire had aided her in forging something new within, it was still fragile. Not quite set. It felt like something integral was still missing, some piece that, if she found it, would help everything finally fall into place, and she could be whole.

It felt strange to think of herself as anything but Ivy when she'd turned her back so firmly on the weak girl she had been before, but perhaps she needed to remember more of Pamela in order to put her to rest. Bury the past properly, then emerge from the earth anew.

"Mighty oaks from little acorns grow," she muttered, unsure if she was talking to herself or the green surrounding her. Perhaps it was both; perhaps they were the same now.

Pamela Isley must have been worth _something_. She'd been chosen for the Games, hadn't she? Harley had wanted to be friends with her right from the beginning of it all. Sam Wilson had wanted her to compete. He must have known something about her that she hadn't known herself, and he'd tried to support her as best he could while she'd still been in the arena, even if he didn't really understand her that well.

Then again, if he hadn't understood her, why had he picked her? They'd never even met until Reaping Day. Never said a word to each other, nor even seen each other in passing, as she'd stuck to the gardens and he'd had his own business to attend to. Moss and Yarrow certainly would never volunteer her for anything — they always wanted to keep her close and safe — and there was nobody else in District Eleven who would even think…

" _If you were Reaped, you would win. And when you came back, you'd live in the Village, and we could be together all the time."_

 _No. NO._

Her eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open in shock. She staggered back a little, then found herself supported by the hedge maze, the smooth leaves caressing her skin. As soon as she made contact with it, she felt calmer. The green was supporting her, just like it always had.

She hadn't seen it before, hadn't made the connection. The only person she'd ever even talked about the Games with was the same person who'd broken her heart and sent her spiralling into two years of numbness and fog. What if, in his way of looking at the world that twisted everything into his favor, he'd believed that if she went into the Games and came out on top, they could still be together? Like it would prove to her that he'd been right about her all along, and she'd fall headlong into his arms again, knowing that he knew best. It was so...so…

" _Jason_." She hissed the name through gritted teeth; she hated the sound of it. The name had grown beyond a name, carrying enough pain and anger and grief as to mutate into poison, a rotting black stump in an otherwise green and beautiful garden. Ivy ran her tongue along her teeth, imagining the name as a sickening dark ichor that coated her mouth. If only getting rid of him were as simple as spitting those two simple syllables onto the grass under her feet. This was going to be another job she couldn't do alone.

She had to find the others.

"Harley? Wade?" She called their names, hoping they might just be within earshot and wishing she hadn't given back her earpiece. There was no answer. Scowling, she began to make her way back toward the house.

It was a lovely place, to be fair, though she hadn't seen a lot of the interior. They'd been kind enough to give her a room which had turned out to be almost half the size of the bungalow she'd grown up in, with a large picture window to let in the sun and a few pretty potted plants dotted around the space, though Mrs Hopkins had made it plain she was under no obligation to stay in the building. She hadn't asked any probing questions, since Logan had already told the head housekeeper how she felt about being kept indoors, instead simply asking her to make sure she shut the doors behind her when she came in and out.

She reached the back door and picked up her shoes before crossing the threshold into the coolness of what she thought was some kind of utility room, with machines for washing and drying clothes and lots of interesting objects hanging on racks suspended from the ceiling. Grabbing a nearby towel from a line of hooks on the wall, she wiped damp blades of grass from the soles of her feet and pulled her socks back on as a nod to the house staff. She didn't think they'd appreciate green smudges across the floors.

These methodical, considerate motions were enough to calm her a little by the time she'd walked through the kitchens, nodding silently to someone who was chopping their way through a mountain of carrots, and into the main hall of the manor. In there, it was warmer and smelled pleasantly of potpourri and the beeswax polish that had been lovingly worked into the wood panelling. She made her way deeper into the building, and before long, she could hear giggling coming from behind one of the doors: two voices, male and female, and underneath them, the low hum of a television.

She paused before pushing the door open, just in case it wasn't who she was looking for.

"So, I'm thinkin' we getta hot tub for the back, maybe a dance floor…"

"Do I get a cockpit disco ball? 'Cause I'll be honest, sweetness, I don't know if I could cope with the innuendo every time I fly—"

 _Wham_!

Ivy slammed the door open so hard it ricocheted off the wall. Harley and Wade were lounging, entangled on a huge couch, in front of a television playing brightly-colored cartoons. Wade was sprawled on his back with his head resting on Harley's thighs, absently playing with her pigtails. His face was covered with Cupid's-bow Harley kisses.

"Ivy! My favorite flower child," he called out, lifting his legs and then swinging himself into a sitting position. "Come to join us?"

She stared at them both, tensed against the door frame and a little embarrassed at her entrance, and took a deep breath. "I need you."

Wade's eyebrows shot up. "So _forward_. Come sit; we'll need to go through some ground rules." He patted the empty cushion beside him. "My safeword's _pumpkin butter_."

Ivy stayed standing, though she did cross the soft carpet to stand in front of them. "I need you to fly me to Eleven."

"Why?" Harley asked, looking up at her with a curious gaze that darted all over her face, taking in the tension in Ivy's jaw and the residual frown between her brows. "Red, what's wrong?" She offered up a hand, and Ivy took it, needing something to ground her and help her think.

"I know who put me into the Games," she said at last.

Wade blinked. "Was it… _not_ the other Mr Wilson?"

"He announced my name on Reaping Day, but I don't think he chose me himself. We'd never met before then. He knew nothing about me, I'd never even seen him before, and I thought that I'd be the last person in the world to be picked for the arena." The more she spoke, the more confident she became in what she was saying. "It wasn't his decision. I'm sure of it."

"Then who's was it? Who else—" Harley's mouth dropped open. "No. No frickin' way."

"Who?" Wade's gaze flicked between the two of them like a dog watching a ball. "C'mon, I'm on the edge of my seat here." He scooted forward on the couch to emphasise his point.

Ivy closed her eyes and took another breath. She could feel her anger building now that she was thinking about him again. It made her chest feel tight. "His name is Jason Woodrue. He's a scientist; he works on genetically modifying plant genes. We had a… relationship a couple of years ago." She perched on the arm of the couch at last, on Harley's other side, and gave Wade a quick rundown of what she'd said that night by the campfire in the arena, what felt like a lifetime ago. He started off fascinated, but as she went on, his expression grew grimmer and grimmer. When she was done, he stood up and approached, holding out his arms.

"May I?"

She nodded, barely acknowledging what he was actually asking for, stuck in her memories until he wrapped his arms around her carefully and held her. That felt… odd. Not unpleasant, but odd. She stiffened and gripped the edges of the couch with earth-stained fingers.

"Ivy comma Poison, that is what we in the heartbreaker business call 'messed up'. If you want me to fly you home so you can give that slimy excuse for a human being a stern talking-to, or whatever else you like, then honey? I'm yours." He patted her on the back, then broke away and held her at arm's length with a sympathetic smile. "We might have to skip helping you out on this one, though. The lovely Harley and I have been talking, and she's decided she's not a hundred percent in on the whole, er, killing thing."

"Nuh-uh!" Harley jumped to her feet and thrust her hands on her hips. "This is different. My Red needs me. One more piece a' trash to throw out, then I'm done. Pinky swear." She held out her pinky finger expectantly.

"Harley…" Ivy grimaced. "I'm not going to make you do something you don't want to do."

Harley giggled. "Red, honey-sweetie-baby, I love ya, but you ain't _never_ gonna be able to make me do somethin' I don't wanna do. We took down my jerk of an ex-boyfriend together; we can do it to yours." She was still holding her hand up; after a moment, Ivy relented and linked their fingers together, and then Wade dropped his own hand on top. "Yeah! We're in it now. Three Musketeers, huh?"

"Sure." Ivy nodded. "But listen, I don't want this to be another plan like last time. I almost got myself killed. Jason will be expecting me to turn up about as much as Jack was, maybe less, but we'll have to be at least a _little_ cautious. I mean, he has a lot to answer for, but I don't even know where he is, if he's even still alive…"

"Aha! Lucky for you, my femme _floral_ , I know a gal that has a habit of keeping a few dozen tabs open while everyone's running around the country fighting idiots," Wade declared in an exaggerated whisper. "SHIELD's persons of interest, anyone who might be out to get the director — which she gets particularly nasty about, by the way — and you know… anyone who's just… kinda weird. Not you and me weird; we are _charming._ I'm talking more like Viper weird. You want me to ask Agent Skye to see if his name turns up anywhere? She'll get into one of her rage-hacks if she hears the guy's a total d-bag."

Ivy stared at him. _He's being so nice again. He's_ helping _me; why does he always want to help me?_ She wondered if it might be because of the love they shared for the blonde-haired woman who stood between them: if she was happy, then Harley was happy, so it made sense for him to help her out. Perhaps she'd return the favor sometime. "Would you… could you do that?"

"Absolutely!" Wade was already making his way towards the door. "Skye should be watching over her favorite body and _fretting_. Probably dying to find something to do." He looked up and waved the tips of his fingers at Harley. "Sweetness, I should only be gone for an hour or so, and then we'll meet at the jet and get to our revenge quest. Toodles!" He blew them each a kiss and vanished, twirling away around the doorframe. They could hear him singing to himself as he walked up the stairs.

* * *

Jason, it turned out, was alive. And still in Eleven. In the remnants of the war-torn district, he was apparently working on methods of manipulating seeds to help them germinate and grow faster to get the destroyed fields and orchards ready to provide food for survivors.

Ivy had a feeling he was only doing it for the glory. He'd never had the chance to bring honor to Eleven from the Games, so becoming the district's savior for helping feed the masses after a hugely destructive battle had taken place would be the next best thing. He could bask in attention like that for years.

She wondered what it would be like to see him again. They were both a little older now, but would he have changed as much as she had? The image of him swam into focus at the forefront of her mind, that handsome face and artfully tousled hair, those glasses that she must have bumped her nose against a thousand times while kissing him.

The thought of kissing him now filled her with revulsion.

Another part of her was curious as to whether he'd watched her in the Games. Had he seen her change, that shift from Pamela to Ivy, dropping her old self like a snake shedding its skin and walking away as a new person? Had he seen her confess what had happened between them to Harley — or the first time she'd killed a man?

Would he suspect that she was coming for him?

Her stomach lurched as the plane shook, jerking her from her reverie. Seconds later, Wade's voice crackled over the speakers. "Sorry, ladies! Teeny-weeny bit of turbulence. We'll be fine!"

"You're doin' amazin', sweetie!" Harley called out with a cheery wave towards the cockpit. Ivy watched Harley as she sat swinging her legs, pigtails bobbing, and she had to smile in spite of everything for just a moment. She stood up, patting Harley's shoulder as she passed her, and made her way toward the cockpit.

The door was ajar, and she pushed it open to step through. Looking around, she quickly surmised that she didn't understand what the vast majority of all the dials and buttons and switches were for, but that wasn't why she'd come.

"Hello, Wade. Do you have a minute?"

He glanced up at her, his winning smile not quite appearing quickly enough to hide his surprise. "For you? Sure. You wanna have a seat and tell ol' Deadpool what's on your mind?"

Ivy sank into the empty seat beside him and drummed her fingers against the arms of the seat as she looked out at the top of the sky. The clouds looked solid enough to stand on, and for a brief moment, she was reminded of trying something called a meringue in the Capitol, a long time ago. She hadn't liked it much. Instead, she thought about when she'd last seen clouds like these, looking up from the top of a tree in the midst of District Twelve.

That felt like a long time ago, too.

"You're awful quiet for the conversation starter ...so, what's up, buttercup?" Wade flipped a few switches then leaned back in his chair with his arms behind his head. "Autopilot's flying this thing, I'm all ears."

Ivy's first question was simple. "Why are you helping me with this?"

"Because this Jason guy sounds like a festering sack of shit. Also, if you're sad, then Harley's sad, and I don't want that no matter how much I like that little pouty face she makes." Wade shrugged. "Plus, it sounds sort of fun, and until we figure out what we want to do with our private plane and oodles of cash, I've got nothing else to do. _And_ , since we're sharing, there's a whole great-power-great-responsibility thing, where I feel like if I don't offer my services as pilot and occasional sword-holder, then anything that happens to you on your little revenge quest is consequently _my_ fault. I'd carry that with me to my grave." He shook his head sadly.

He seemed to have run out of steam, and Ivy considered his profile silently. It wasn't that she immediately trusted him after this long-winded declaration, but it was somewhat reassuring. He came across as genuinely caring about Harley, which was the important thing. She wouldn't see Harley fall in with another creep who'd use her up and spit her out again, all take-take-take and no give — and she thought he was smart enough to know not to lie to her, not after everything she'd been through.

It might take some getting used to, but Wade Wilson appeared to be a man she could trust.

"How long until we reach Eleven?" she asked after a few minutes of silence.

Wade looked a little relieved. "We should start our descent about now." He began to adjust the plane's trajectory, and they tilted in their seats, descending through the dense cloud in a wide spiral.

Ivy had never seen her district from above, but she hadn't thought it could ever look like this. It was so dark; the fields were blackened and charred, carved through with huge swathes of trampled stalks, and despite it still being late summer, half the trees in the orchards were losing their leaves. As the plane flew lower and lower, she saw harvesters that were tipped onto their sides and looked strangely empty, as if they'd been ransacked for parts. Houses had their roofs smashed in. The great square, where Pamela had been Reaped, last in a long line of dead Elevens, was stained with the residue of battle.

Wade flew their plane overhead as steadily as he could, heading for the Justice Building. Staring out of the nearest window, Ivy noticed a few curious upturned faces, paused in the scurrying crowds to watch them on their journey. Was Jason down there or was he busy working? Or perhaps hiding?

She hoped he was hiding. That way, she could hunt him down like the dog he had turned out to be.

"So," Wade began, breaking into her thoughts, "where do we start?"


	51. Chapter 51: Honor and Duty

**(A/N): Happy Friday, and beware the ides of March. ;) We're back in District Four with Kaldur Ahm this time around!**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed and support each other and to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being our favorite human being and rocking the reviews :D.**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty-One - Honor and Duty**

 **Kaldur Ahm**

 **District Four**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Love is moral even without legal marriage, but marriage is immoral without love." - Ellen Key_

" _Companions are we, enlivened by a mighty gallop quickly sliding a harsh straw basket of sea foam gathered astride the tide." -Bradley Chico_

* * *

Four was a constant flurry of motion, reminding Kaldur more of a hive of tracker jackers than of the quiet strength the district usually held. There was so much left to accomplish, both at home and in other districts, that there was no time for the softer forces of the tides — only the frenetic forces of battle and recovery.

Some of Four's forces were still in Eleven. Some of Kaldur's fellow Tahitians were in other districts. There was so much to do; there were so many moving parts in both SHIELD and the districts writ large.

And yet, for the moment, Kaldur found himself not in the middle of a physical battle… but a battle of _pride_.

He had, of course, been pleased to see that Four had come together to provide aid to the districts around them, and he was glad to see people from all three of the families working together in their efforts to rebuild. But despite appearances, the leadership of Four was still fractured — and to Kaldur's disappointment, it was Atlantis that stood against the tides of unification.

He could understand Arthur's hesitation, of course. The All-Father had always tried to put Asgard ahead of the other families, and so while Diana's heritage might have won her support among the Asgardian warriors, it had the opposite effect for Arthur. He distrusted her even more now, sure that she would be a leader cast from the same mold as her father, putting her own people first. And since her people included both the Amazons and the Asgardians, Atlantis was left without a voice — unless Arthur remained steadfast in demanding his place as leader.

At least, that was the way Arthur saw it.

Kaldur could hardly blame his king for being wary. There was a lot of bad history between the ruling families, and Arthur was only trying to do right by his people. If he stood aside and let the other two families run roughshod over the Atlanteans, what kind of leader would he be?

Yes, Kaldur could see why Arthur was the most stubborn of all the people of Four in accepting Diana's leadership. But it was frustrating to find himself at odds with the king that he had grown up respecting since he was old enough to understand the concept.

So he _had_ hoped that when Arthur asked to meet with Kaldur and Diana in private, it was a sign that Arthur might finally be open to changing his mind, to giving Diana a chance — to giving _unity_ a chance.

He wasn't surprised that Arthur picked one of the coves as a meetingplace. It was part of his domain, and it was a physical signal to Diana that the conversation would be taking place on his terms. Everything was about power — as Odin had told Kaldur long before he died.

But if Diana could see the unspoken power play, she didn't say anything about it, opting to sit calmly across from Arthur once they arrived. She didn't say anything, waiting instead for Arthur to explain himself — and that in itself was a display of her own power.

Finally, Arthur sat down, his gaze never leaving Diana's face. "I've made no secret of the fact that I don't like this new balance of power," he told Diana frankly, and she nodded minutely, well aware of his feelings on the matter. "You can't possibly expect me to _trust_ you not to forget my people as soon as the war is over. You might need us now, but what is to say that you will not go back to the way Princes behaved — or the way Odin behaved — in the past? Your word?"

"I would hope my actions speak for themselves," Diana said, her chin tipped up to meet the Sea King's gaze.

Arthur scoffed. "Your actions," he repeated before he got to his feet, still shaking his head. "Your actions, Diana _Odinsdottir_ , have been loud and clear. Since you were young, you have carried yourself like a princess, expecting a level of respect you had not earned. Your name gave you the outer trappings of leadership, but your life gave you no lessons — until the Games." He let out another little noise from the back of his throat. "Do not mistake me. I saw what you did for Kaldur in the Games, and I understand why he stands beside you. I am even grateful for it. But it is difficult to believe that the person you are in battle will be the leader you will become in peacetime."

Before Diana could respond, Kaldur broke in, unable to let the indictment of his friend stand. "You sound like an Asgardian, my king." His voice was firm, but he kept his head bowed.

Still, Arthur could hardly hide his indignation. "You cannot be so easily swayed by this _Prince_ that you have forgotten everything I have taught you!"

"No," Kaldur said, keeping his voice even. "But you are the one that taught me people can be as changeable as the tide. You taught me that people can become better — or they can become worse. They choose the current they will swim in." He looked up to meet Arthur's gaze. "You said yourself that Diana has given unity to the district in battle. Who are you to say that she will change her course?"

"I am the king of Atlantis," Arthur said, his voice suddenly ringing with the authority and barely-checked fury that used to send Kaldur running for Queen Mera's safer embrace when he was little. "And you do not speak for all of us." He narrowed his eyes, but after a moment, he let his shoulders relax and looked far more approachable. "At least, not yet."

Diana frowned as she looked between the two of them. "What more can I do to show you that I _will_ be true to my word?" she asked. "I have not kept any Atlantean from glory in battle, honor in death, or safety in _our_ ranks."

"This much is true," Arthur allowed, turning to face Diana fully. "But you cannot expect Atlantis to agree to leadership that lends authority only to two of the three peoples. If I have been abrasive, it is only because my people need to _know_ that they will not go unheard." He paused and turned toward Kaldur again. "You know that Mera and I have no heirs of our own. Perhaps Odin knew this when he chose you, but Mera has always considered you to be her own, Kaldur. When I enter the halls of the drowned gods, you are the logical choice to take my place."

Kaldur was honestly shocked to hear it, and he could find no quick retort — or _any_ retort, really. He had always considered Mera to be his family, especially since he had none of his own, but he thought it was an informal arrangement. He certainly hadn't considered himself to be part of the royal family, let alone an _heir_.

And while Kaldur sat in honest shock, Arthur turned his attention back to Diana. "You want to unite our district, Prince?"

"Aye," Diana said, her chin tipped up and her gaze firm.

"Then _unite_." Arthur gestured between the two of them. "You are the heir to Hippolyta and Odin, and here is my heir. I propose a union, so that the heirs of all _three_ of our peoples are represented in our king and queen." When neither Diana nor Kaldur said anything — both of them obviously struggling to find the proper response to the proposal — Arthur even smiled at them both. "I can assure you: that would assuage the fears of my people, prevent them from thinking that they will be crushed under leadership that never knew the sea."

Kaldur could taste his own heartbeat. It was a sensation he had never felt before, but with every beat of his heart, he could taste something bitter on his tongue.

This was not what he had expected his king to say. None of it was. It was certainly a shock to hear Arthur speak of him as if he was part of his bloodline — Mera had always been readier to lend him such familial affection, though Arthur had been proud to teach him, even if he never said as much. And he had scarcely begun to understand that monumental weight before another was thrust upon his shoulders.

Marriage.

Kaldur had considered that future for himself — eventually. He had hoped that it would be Tula, though he had seen her fight alongside Garth and had seen her tend to his wounds with such care and tenderness recently that he had to give that dream up for its futility.

But he had not been given the time to mourn the death of one dream before another was chosen for him, and he hardly knew what to say.

He glanced to Diana, who looked similarly stunned, and she met his gaze. He saw in her expression the same indecision he was feeling, the same shock.

They were young — both of them. Yes, it was common for warriors in District Four to marry once they were past the age of Reaping, but it was not required nor expected. The people of Four celebrated each marriage as a labor of _love,_ as one of the only things left that each citizen of Four shared in common: hearts waiting to be won, to be given freely to deep joy and belonging.

But a marriage to Diana…

Kaldur only had a moment to consider it, but in that moment, he knew that it was the best thing for the district. It made perfect sense. Four could not expect to be fully unified if Arthur was the voice of Atlantis. He was part of the old way of doing things. He would be seen by the other two sects as clinging to the past, while Atlantis would see his dual leadership with Diana as unbalanced and precarious.

No, they needed someone else to be their guardian. Someone who had already pledged himself to the unity of all three families and their people.

And Kaldur had, of course, been willing to be that voice. He had fully expected to stay by Diana's side, to fight alongside her and to provide her counsel so that she never strayed back into the prideful path of an Amazon or the meandering path of an Asgardian.

But marriage?

Neither Kaldur nor Diana had spoken a word yet, but Kaldur could see that Diana was studying him as closely as he was studying her. He could see the slight movement of her head as she started to nod and knew that, like him, she could see the wisdom of a union like this — a new beginning for Four.

"If there were to be such a union," Diana said at last, slowly, tearing her gaze from Kaldur to look Arthur squarely in the eyes, "then you must unequivocally give us both your support. You must relinquish your claim to leadership and allow us both to rule in your stead — as my mother has done for me as I lead our people."

Arthur nodded. "I would gladly yield my seat of power if it aids our people," he said. "But I cannot do so until I am assured that the very same people I am sworn to protect will be able to _trust_ in the new leadership."

"Then I accept your terms," Diana said. "We will announce the union before all three kingdoms."

Arthur nodded, even going so far as to incline his head in a slight bow. It was the first sign of deference that he had given Diana — and it was that more than anything that broke Kaldur out of his shock. To see Arthur willing to _submit_ , to see his famous pride fall to the wayside in that moment… that was exactly what Kaldur needed to see to know that this grand gesture, this political marriage could work.

"And I," Kaldur said, though he put a hand on Diana's arm and met her gaze. "But I would speak to you first, before we tell the district writ large."

Diana raised an eyebrow and glanced toward Arthur, who simply got to his feet. "I am sure you have much to discuss," Arthur said mildly before he saw himself out, leaving Kaldur shaking his head. His king was famed for his pride, yes, but his moods could sometimes be as changeable as the weather that moved the surface of the sea. Mera had always been the calmer one of the two, the steady, deep water that changed hardly at all.

Once Arthur was gone, Kaldur released the breath that he had not realized he was holding in his lungs. "Diana," he said gently, "I did not ask him to do this thing."

Diana's shock was easier to see when she was no longer trying to give the illusion of strength to the Sea King. "That much was clear from the way you lost your tongue," she said. "John will be shocked to hear that your greatest strength failed you in your hour of need."

 _John_. Kaldur could feel that same bitter taste on his tongue. He had come to consider John a close friend, a brother in arms, the way he had come to feel about Thor and even Diana. And now, he would need to tell that shield brother that he had claimed for himself the woman John loved.

He shook off the thought, at least for the moment. The most important matter at hand was the upcoming union, and he needed to speak to his future wife first before he spoke to his friends. "Diana," he said in the same gentle tone he had used before, "I hope you will not think of this marriage as a burden."

Diana frowned at his wording. "I am sure you see it that way, diver — to be married to an Amazon and an Asgardian."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "But you did not choose this, and neither did I."

"No, we did not," she agreed, her tone softening somewhat.

As he had done before, in the sands just beyond the wedding on the beach, Kaldur reached forward to clasp her arm against his and to rest their foreheads together. He closed his eyes and let her lean into the touch as she had before, standing in silence with her for some time.

"You are not the same girl who came to the Capitol with me on that train," Kaldur said at last, and Diana raised an eyebrow as they stepped back from one another.

"And you are not the same arrogant boy that questioned my every move."

"No, now I am your arrogant betrothed, still questioning everything in order to keep you alert," Kaldur said, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Diana seemed to smile despite herself. "Then that much, at least, has not changed."

"Aye." Kaldur let out a long breath. "Diana…"

"I know." She put one hand on his shoulder, meeting his gaze. "I have no desire to hurt you either. If you cannot abide the idea of this union, if you truly feel there is no hope for us to do anything but bicker, I will not be offended."

Kaldur chuckled at that. "No, I think we have moved past our arrogance. I have even come to think of you as my sister in arms."

"And I have come to value your wisdom, even if it is not always as steady as you think it is."

Kaldur smirked. "Then, for the sake of Four, I believe we may yet be able to make this work."

"Aye." Diana smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "For the sake of Four."

Kaldur nodded once more, though neither of them moved to leave the cove for some time. The air between them was heavy with everything that they — purposefully — left unsaid. Kaldur wondered if this would be the future of their marriage: leaving those things to the wind that would threaten their union.

Finally, Kaldur reached forward and grasped both of Diana's hands. "There will be promises made later to the district, to our people," he said. "But I can promise you now: I _will_ do my utmost to be a husband and king worthy of Four. I will be faithful, and I will protect you. And I will not hate you," he added, this time with a hint of a smile. "In fact, I think I quite enjoy our friendship."

Diana smiled at that — one that finally reached her eyes. "And I will promise the same to you," she said. "I will shield you from your own stubbornness and will not disgrace your name."

"And I suppose," Kaldur said after a beat of silence, "that we will love each other."

"I suppose," Diana repeated, though her smile had dropped from her eyes.

"So long as you keep that trickster side of your heritage to yourself," Kaldur teased, grasping for something, anything, to break the tension between them.

Diana gave him a half-hearted laugh and dropped his hands. "You speak of unity and then say things like that!"

"I speak of unity while still acknowledging the faults of the people we will lead together," he chuckled.

"Oh? And the faults of Atlantis?"

"Are few and far between, but I suppose I could enumerate them if you required me to," Kaldur replied, barely even pausing for breath.

Diana shook her head at that, though the tension between them had lessened — at least enough that they were comfortable to leave the cove together. They were not, however, comfortable enough to walk hand-in-hand… though Kaldur did offer her his arm as they walked.

They paused once more when they could hear the sound of voices. Their people were just around the bend of the rocks on the beach, and soon, they would have to present a united front. There could be no tension between them; the things left unsaid would have to be lost to the wind and forgotten.

In that spirit, Kaldur leaned forward and kissed her temple. He meant it as much as an experiment for himself as it was a display of affection, and he was not surprised to find there was no tingle of excitement. He cared for Diana, yes. He would even die for her. But he had no desire to take her in his arms.

He searched Diana's expression and found that she was still watching him, likely looking for the same spark that he was. But when neither of them could see what they were searching for, Kaldur shook his head and then pulled her into a long hug instead. They were both tall, and so they rested their heads on each other's shoulders.

"Our hearts are for Four," he whispered to her. "And I will give mine to you. You are a good queen, Diana. I'm honored to be your king."

Diana held him a little tighter around the shoulders. "I am glad that, of all the divers in Arthur's kingdom, he chose you. If I am to be married, I am glad it will be to someone I care for."

"Aye," Kaldur said. "You have given words to my own feelings."

Diana smiled at that and stepped back from him. "I must tell my mother," she said. "And my sister."

"And I should speak with Mera," Kaldur said. _And John,_ he thought, knowing that it would be best if John heard the news firsthand — and knowing that Diana had already placed John's names and any feelings the two of them might have shared in the wind along with the other things they chose to leave unsaid.

"I wish you luck," Diana said.

"And I you." He smiled lightly. "After all, you must surprise Hippolyta with the news that you are marrying a lowly diver. At least I get to tell Mera that I am betrothed to a queen."

Diana chuckled at that. "Yes, you do seem to have the better luck of the two of us."

"Perhaps the drowned gods saw that I had already suffered much from the Games and saw fit to give me the power to do as much good as possible." He smiled and shrugged. "And that power comes through our union, it seems."

"I have no doubt we will do much good together," Diana agreed. "Already, you have helped me to unify our people. Many an Atlantean has cited our alliance in the Games as reason for their support."

"They saw what you did for me," Kaldur said softly. "They know that you honor our customs in your own way. That has always meant more than you realize."

"And your quiet support has meant more than you realize as well," Diana said. She smiled tightly and then turned on her heel. "Good luck. I'm sure I will see you again before long."

"And often, for years to come," Kaldur said. "Are you sure I won't annoy you to an early trip to Valhalla?"

She shook her head at him, rolling her eyes with the motion. "The Elysian Fields."

"See? I am already an upsetting husband."

At that, finally, Diana started to laugh. "You have such a strange sense of humor, Kaldur Ahm."

"Perhaps," he allowed. "But it is good to hear you laugh, Diana Prince."

She smiled and stole back for a moment to take his hand and squeeze it gently. "Already, you prove that you can care for me. Perhaps we can make this work after all."


	52. Chapter 52: For Family

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! This time, let's peek in on the Teen Titans, with the lovely Unlucky Alis writing Kory, as always!**

 **Thank you to the writers who reviewed as well as to our rockstars, Slim Summers2002 (we also love Kaldur's adorable confusion) and TheRaspberryVigilante41 (we're glad we can still throw curveballs this late in the game, haha! It's gonna be a bumpy ride for those three). Special shoutout, too, to Practically an Avenger, whose marathon-reviewing had us grinning all weekend. That was amazing!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty Two - For Family**

 **Kory Anders, formerly of District Twelve**

 **District One**

 **Written by Unlucky Alis**

* * *

" _It is forbidden to kill; therefore all murderers are punished unless they kill in large numbers and to the sound of trumpets." - Voltaire_

* * *

Kory had always wanted to see District One. The people living there had wealth, luxury, and favor. There was a point in time when Kory thought living in District One would be the next best thing to the Capitol and that she, being the daughter of a well-off merchant for their district, would fit in nicely.

She knew now that would never have been the case. Kory Anders was never meant for such a relaxed life.

Next to her, Gar couldn't sit still. He was squirming under his protective gear, tugging on the thick shoulder straps, jutting his chin above the collar that rode up his neck while he sat. Kory understood how he felt. They both had worn the gear before, but it took a few minutes to readjust to its weight and bulk each time.

Raven and Gar, being of a shorter stature, were forced to wear gear that was just a little big for them. It was already the smallest size SHIELD had, but it was never meant to be worn by anyone so young. Gar, at least, already had experience fighting while wearing it, and Raven appeared to be adjusting to it quickly.

"You'll get used to it faster if you don't move so much," Raven said. She sat on Gar's other side, her ICER resting in her lap. She looked calm, but her vest rose up to brush her earlobes every time her shoulders tensed.

"Right, yeah, sorry," Gar said. He squirmed again. "I've just… been thinking. This is it, right?"

Kory glanced over Raven and Gar's heads at Dick, who looked back at her with a raised eyebrow. "That's the plan," Dick said.

"Right." Gar nodded and glanced at Raven, then at Dick and Kory. "So what's going to happen with us after? We're all from different districts, and there are people back home I'd like to see again, but it's not like we wouldn't be able to see each other ever, right?"

Raven frowned. "What are you talking about? Of course we'll see each other."

"You can't get rid of us that easily," Dick added. He grinned his usual cocky grin, the one that always made Kory's heart flutter and made her believe _they could do this_. "We're the Titans."

"We are a family now — and nothing will change that," Kory said. Reaching over, she tugged Gar's vest down so that he didn't have to stick his chin in the air. She ruffled his hair and smiled, then smirked over his head in Dick's direction. "Besides, Dick would be lost without us."

"Hey! I could still…" Dick trailed off when Kory tilted her head back. She ran her hands through her hair, mussing it, and licked her lips. The offended expression slipped off his face as he swallowed, a goofy grin replacing his fake scowl. "Never mind."

Kory blushed and fixed her hair, glancing down at her lap, where her ICER was balanced on her knees. Her accuracy had improved since the first time she used the gun, thanks to Helena. She had given Kory some great tips and useful lessons to improve her skills, and Kory would always be thankful for it.

When the Titans were gearing up, Kory had been surprised to see that she and Dick were given ICERs too. Raven and Gar she understood. They were young; they shouldn't have seen people die at their age, much less be asked to kill someone themselves. But Kory… her hands certainly hadn't stayed clean throughout all this.

She wasn't happy that she needed to kill, but she wasn't upset by it either. Like she said, it was a necessity. If someone had to die, she would rather it be her enemies than one of her Titans.

* * *

Once they were two minutes out from their destination, everyone rose to their feet and checked their gear. Besides the Titans, there were two squads of SHIELD agents: one for Kory and another for Dick. She hoped they didn't mind being lead by teenagers.

The plan was simple, in theory. Get in, find a defensible position, and wait for Skye to give them the go-ahead; then, they'd move in and take out Talia and the rest of the Demon's Head. They had to be quick, precise — and they couldn't afford any mistakes.

Kory was looking forward to it. Jason deserved to be avenged.

"You guys ready?" Dick asked.

"As we'll ever be," Raven said.

The transport shuddered, and Kory braced herself as they started landing, rocking on her feet to maintain her balance with every shift of the ship. There was a jarring _thump_ as it touched down, a moment of silence filled by the whirring of the engine, and then the back door hissed and the ramp started opening.

Kory stood on her toes to peer over the ramp as it lowered, steeling herself just in case there were enemies ready to ambush them. The ramp hit the pavement with a thud, and they were left staring out at an empty street.

Dick's elbow bumped Kory's, and she nodded without looking at him. Together, they stepped off the transport, ICERs raised, gazes raking the street.

Gar, Raven, and the others followed. Once the last agent's boots hit the pavement, the ramp went back up. No one spoke as the transport door closed, the whir of the engines flared, and it took off. It wouldn't return until the action started — and then the pilot would provide them with cover from the air.

"What now?" Gar whispered.

"We need to meet the forward team. They didn't have much of a head start, but Logan said they had enough information to locate Talia for us," Dick said. He turned away as he spoke into his ear piece. "Skye, we've landed. Any word from the scouts?"

Raven slapped Gar's hand when he reached up to fiddle with his ear piece. He pouted just as Skye replied in all their ears.

"They called in less than a minute ago," she said. "They're on their way back to your location. If you head north, you should meet them in less than ten minutes."

"Thanks," Kory said.

"I'll contact you again when Viper is dead. Good luck."

With that, their radios went silent.

Kory and Dick lead their squads on opposite sides of the street, Gar with Kory and Raven with Dick. Spread out as they were, they would be harder to take out if they were ambushed.

Gar stuck close to her side, still fidgeting as they darted from cover to cover.

"Hey," Kory said, bumping his shoulder. "You'll do fine."

Gar glanced up at her, then down. "I thought that during the Games, too."

Kory stopped, barely remembering the signal some of the other operatives had taught her — a raised, clenched fist — to let the others know they were stopping. She swivelled and faced Gar, the barrel of her ICER almost knocking against his nose as she did.

"Today, we are going to kill Talia al Ghul," Kory said. "Today, Logan is going to kill Viper. Today, Hydra dies. Tonight, we will celebrate — and tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that, we will go to Ten and you will introduce us to Jill, because after today, this will _really_ be over."

"But what if we—"

Kory slapped a hand over his mouth and leaned down so their eyes were level. "You'll be okay, Gar." She wrapped her other arm and around his shoulder and pulled him into a hug. "I won't fail you this time."

"Thanks," Gar mumbled after a moment. He returned her hug, squeezing tightly.

Across the street, Dick tilted his head. Kory shot Dick a thumbs up behind Gar's back as they separated.

"Let us kick ass," Kory said, and Gar grinned.

With Gar's confidence restored, Kory waved for them to move forward again, moving in tandem with Dick's team. Every couple blocks, they would check the next street over on either side, to make sure they wouldn't miss the forward team because they weren't walking on the same road.

Gar and Kory were returning from one such check, Gar trailing a couple feet behind her, when he shouted, "Hey!" and spun to face a squat building across the street.

Kory didn't even think. Reacting immediately to Gar's shout, she swivelled, spotted the enemy in the shadows of the doorway, and pulled her trigger. The ICER dart struck home … on the chest of a SHIELD-issued vest.

The woman didn't fall — the needle wasn't long enough to pierce the vest completely — but Kory dropped her gun anyway. It hit the ground with a clatter as her arms jerked up, folding over her chest.

If Logan hadn't issued her an ICER, if he had given her a lethal weapon like she was expecting, she could have just killed an ally.

For a moment, no one moved.

The woman's head turned, slowly, as she scanned the street. She looked at the dart hanging from her vest, ripped it out, and tossed it down to the street. Waving over her shoulder, she started across the street, and the other members of the forward team revealed themselves. One of them had been tucked into the doorway with the woman, and another slinked out of an alleyway. A rather short agent slipped out from a hiding place between a garbage can and a wooden fence that stretched between two small shops.

Kory heard a heavy sigh right next to her, and she and Gar nearly jumped out their skin when they turned to see the fourth and final member of the forward team standing right beside them. Kory raised a questioning eyebrow, and the man tilted his head back.

Peering around him, Kory saw a bush, not even a very big one at that. She looked at the agent, who was by no means small, back at the bush, then at the agent once again.

"You should be more observant," he said.

Kory scowled. She was plenty observant, but the forward team specialized in stealth.

"Gar, can you go tell Dick we've met up with the forward team?" Kory asked.

"Yeah, sure," Gar said and scurried away.

Kory bent down to pick up her ICER, cradling the gun in her arms, as the woman she shot approached. The ICER didn't look damaged from being dropped, but that wasn't Kory's highest priority.

"Good shot," the woman said. "But next time, actually look at who you're shooting." She smirked and offered Kory her hand. "Mia Dearden. Try not to shoot the rest of my team."

Kory nodded and bit her lip. She couldn't get the image of what almost happened, what _could_ have happened, out of her head: the woman splayed out on the steps, probably dead, and Kory a murderer.

Dick's squad came jogging toward them a moment later. When he saw Kory's expression — eyes downcast, wrinkled nose, frowning — he paused.

"What happened; are you okay?" he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.

Kory considered lying. It wouldn't take much effort to say, "No, nothing happened, I'm fine." But she knew Dick would see through it in an instant. "No," she said with a shake of her head. "But we have other things to focus on right now."

Dick searched her face, looking for any hint of what happened in her downturned lips. Kory didn't try to school her expression, instead letting her eyes convey her promise.

 _Later_. When they didn't have a target to kill, they would talk.

Dick nodded.

"Excuse me," Dearden said. "We're too exposed like this, so if you could stop making eyes at each other and we could get out of sight, that would be great."

"She thinks _this_ is bad," Raven muttered, making Gar laugh.

Dearden was right, though. They moved off the main street, huddled together just out of sight while a few agents stood watch.

"What did you find?" Dick asked.

"The intel Logan gave us mentioned a hanger used by the Demon's Head," Dearden said. "We found it not too far from here. Talia's been seen around there before. When it all goes down, chances are she'll head there first."

"Take the hangar, defend the position, wait for Viper to fall, then move in on Talia," Kory said.

Dick bit his lip. "We shouldn't attack before Viper is dead. Someone could sound an alarm, tip Talia off. Or worse: call it in to Viper. It could screw up the whole operation."

Kory couldn't deny his logic, but she also knew it would give them the advantage to have the hangar before the action started. She looked to the forward team. "What's the hangar like?"

"Three entrances. Four if you count the roof," Dearden said. "Two are back entrances; one is the main hanger. We only circled the building from across the street; couldn't risk going any closer than that."

"If you're guarding a building, what entrance do you guard the most?" Kory asked.

"Any entrance an enemy could reach," Raven said. Gar raised an eyebrow in her direction, and she shrugged. "I wouldn't want to leave anything open."

"Exactly." Kory nodded. She glanced at Dick. "And what entrance would you never expect someone to reach in a fortified hangar?"

"Oh." Dick grinned. "That could be fun."

* * *

Kory crouched just out of sight in the shadow of a tall building. When she pictured the hangar being just across the street, it wasn't quite like this. Sure, there was only one street separating her from the property, but then there was the stretch of grass, then gravel, then pavement between the road and the building itself.

"I don't think we can get there without being seen," Gar said.

Kory scanned the building. A thick pipe snaked down the wall, definitely climbable. There were no windows, but there were Demon's Head soldiers. Two patrolling the ground, one that she could see on the roof, probably more just out of sight.

"Does this mean we're waiting?"

Kory watched the two enemy soldiers milling around the corners of the building. They didn't seem to be patrolling in any discernible pattern. Once in a while, one of them would stray a few yards from their position, but that was it.

"Every five minutes, the people on the roof move away," Raven said. Her gaze was glued to the roof, and she blinked slowly, nodding when, just as she said they would, the figures on top of the building walked out of sight.

"If we're fast enough, we can take out the two ground soldiers without anyone else seeing," Kory said.

"Is there anyone here that could make that shot?" Dick asked. He craned his neck to peer back at the agents. Dearden was already moving into position. She knelt at the front of the group, peering through her sights, then looked up at Kory.

"Give me your ICER. It's a lot quieter," she demanded.

Kory wordlessly passed over the ICER, taking Dearden's gun in return. She stared down at it and swallowed. She would give it back the second the shots were taken.

"Raven, you're with me this time," Kory said, dragging her gaze away from the lethal weapon. "Gar, stay close to Dick."

They nodded and waited with baited breath as Dearden readied her shots. One of the soldiers strolled away from their position, moving further behind the building, and she fired. The first soldier dropped. She fired again.

The second soldier hadn't even hit the ground before the two SHIELD squads were running at full tilt, boots slapping against the pavement, digging into the grass, and kicking up gravel. Kory almost slammed against the wall, breathing heavily. As Dick told two agents to move the Demon's Head bodies, Kory glanced down at the gun in her arms. She had forgotten to take her ICER back.

"Here," she said, dumping the gun in Dearden's arms and snatching her ICER back. Slipping the ICER's strap over her shoulder, Kory approached the pipe. It look thick enough. She grabbed it and rattled it, carefully, to see if it would hold, smiling when it stayed firm.

"Gar," she said, turning to look at him. "Can you climb up and tell us what you see?"

"Yeah!" Gar nodded, and Kory stepped away so he could take her place. He shimmied up the pipe with ease, like a monkey climbing a tree, and slowed when he reached the top. He peeked over the edge of the roof, ducked down, then peeked again before shimmying back down.

"There's only a few soldiers up there, but not really any cover," he said. "The door that goes inside isn't far, though, and a few people could hide next to that."

"Alright, Titans: we'll go first, clear out the troops, and then everyone follows us. We can't risk being spotted, so we've got to be careful with this. But if we're lucky, when everything goes down, Talia will be coming straight to us," Dick said. "Let's go."

Dick went up first, followed by Gar, then Raven, and Kory last. Every time one of them clambered over the edge, Kory's heart pounded. All it would take was one side glance for someone to spot them.

When it was her turn, Kory shifted and pulled her gun back around. She felt better knowing she could fire it at a moment's notice if need be. Peering over the edge, she scanned the roof. The entrance to the stairwell was only a few feet to her left. Dick and the others were already huddled behind it. There were five Demon's Head soldiers scattered around the roof, and one of them was heading their way. The soldier was on the opposite side of the rooftop entrance from the others, coming in at an angle. The soldier wouldn't see them unless he turned around, but that didn't make them safe.

Kory hissed in annoyance and jerked her head in the soldier's direction, trying to signal Dick. He saw the motion and nodded. Kory hefted her gun, held up one finger, then ducked down before the soldier could see her. She had exactly one chance to get this right.

She waited, listening to the sound of the soldier's footsteps. His feet dragged against the rooftop, coming closer and closer to where she clung to the pipe.

Her arms were starting to shake.

The footsteps stopped. Kory gripped her ICER. She threw herself over the edge, slamming into the soldier's legs rather than wasting time on a proper tackle. The soldier yelped and fell, getting an ICER dart to the neck a second later.

When Kory scrambled to her feet, the Titans were already moving. They ran out from behind their cover, ICERs blazing. Raven and Gar managed to hit one each while Dick took out the final two. It was pretty sad on the Demon's Head side of things. Barely ten seconds of action and they were down — at the hands of teenagers, no less.

"Huh. Maybe this won't be so hard," Raven said.

She barely finished speaking before a klaxon started blaring. Gar slapped his hands over his ears while Kory swore.

"What the hell happened?" Dick shouted. He got his answer a second later from Skye.

"Viper is down; Talia's all yours."

Dick nodded, looking toward the others. "Forget stealth; we're going in hard!"

Kory ran to the edge of the roof and shouted down at the agents below. "Go through the back door! We're coming down from above. Meet us in the hangar!" She waited just long enough to see one of them nod, then ran back to the Titans.

"So much for leading the charge," Dick said. "But I like this better anyway."

"Let's kick some Demon's Head butt!" Gar shouted.

"Yeah!" the four of them chorused.

They charged through the door, barreling down the stairs, and when they met their first enemies, they were ready.

Dick lashed out first, smacking the closest soldier in the face with the butt of his gun. Kory stepped in, slamming her shoulder against the soldier's chest and throwing him back into the other soldiers, while Raven and Gar rained fire down on the whole group.

They were methodical, precise, working together seamlessly. One minute, Kory was side-by-side with Dick, providing cover fire for their younger teammates. The next minute, she was dashing forward to kick and punch her way through, weaving in and out of soldiers with Gar next to her. Then, she found herself tag-teaming a group of soldiers with Raven, alternating between her ICER and fists as needed.

They tore through the upper level in minutes and burst out into the main hangar, finding themselves on a walkway high above the floor.

"Duck!" Raven shouted.

Kory and Raven rolled right, while the boys went left. Bullets flew through the air where they had been standing just a second ago.

"Meet you on the floor!" Dick said.

Kory and Raven took off. They couldn't risk standing around and being a easy targets. As long as they kept moving, they could avoid the worst injuries.

Raven grabbed Kory's arm and pointed to a set of stairs leading down. Demon's Head soldiers were making their way up, but they wouldn't be for long.

Kory pushed herself into the lead, grabbing the rail and whipping herself around the corner, feet first, kicking the first soldier in the face. He toppled backward, forcing the other soldiers to jump to the side lest they be taken out with him.

Kory's landing was less than graceful, balancing on the edge of a step and nearly falling right after the soldier. An enemy right in front of her reached for a gun, but an ICER cartridge to the face from Raven had him crumpling against the rail.

But the enemy behind him was a lot faster to recover. He fired off a shot before Kory punched him in the jaw.

Behind her, Raven cried out, and Kory saw red.

She lunged, wrapping her hands around the soldier's throat, and threw them both down the stairs.

" _Kory!_ "

She heard a scream, felt a burning pain on her arm. A crack. A flash of yellow. Then, her head smacked against the rail, and she blacked out for a moment.

When Kory came to, everything was fuzzy. She could tell someone was kneeling next to her, but she had to strain her eyes to see that it was Raven, with tears running down her face. There was someone else standing over them — an enemy?

A SHIELD agent. Guarding them.

Right. The enemy was on the ground, right next to Kory. His neck was at an awkward angle. He hadn't been dead long enough for his eyes to gain that glazed look. Instead, it felt like they were just staring at Kory.

"Rav'n," Kory said, slurring a little. She started pushing herself up, but then everything swayed and she had to pause.

Raven sniffed, wiping furiously at her tears, and helped Kory sit up.

There were little aches and pains all over her body. Nothing shooting and sharp like a broken bone would give, but her arm still burned. She glanced at it, her fuzzy brain taking a moment to make sense of what she was seeing in the bloody mess.

The metal that made up the stairs was grated, for grip, and must have torn her arm up on the way down. All the blood made it look worse than it actually was, but she felt queasy looking at it.

Kory swallowed and looked away. She was a warrior; she couldn't let something like this get to her.

"'m okay," she said to Raven, but everything was still a little blurry, and the whole hangar kept tilting and tipping at precarious angles. Kory narrowed her eyes, trying to focus and find Dick. Where was he?

"Right here."

Oh, she said that out loud. Kory turned her head slowly, looking up, squinting even more. It wasn't a random agent standing over them; it was Dick. His eyes were red, jaw clenched, knuckles white as he gripped his gun tighter.

"Talia," Kory said, brows furrowed. They had a mission. Dick should be looking out for Talia. Her gaze raked the hangar again, catching a tall, lithe figure darting along the wall. The shadow was sticking to shadowed places, stopping whenever someone got close, slowly making their way to a transport at the back. It was the only one soldiers and agents alike weren't fighting near.

"Raven, don't let her go anywhere. We're still waiting for Talia to arrive," Dick said.

Raven nodded while Kory shook her head.

She reached out to grab Dick's arm, but he was jogging away before she could figure out which of his four arms to grab. Kory looked back at the woman in the shadows. She was almost to the transport; she'd get away.

Kory's palm smacked against the cement as she searched for her ICER. When she found it, she paused. They were there to kill Talia, and ICERs weren't made for killing. Raven wasn't made for killing. Neither was Gar or Dick.

But Kory was.

Bracing herself on Raven's shoulder, Kory grabbed the Demon's Head soldier's gun and rose — very unsteadily — to her feet.

"Kory, wait. You're injured; you need to stay here," Raven said. She grabbed Kory's unininjured — or at least less injured — arm and pulled. But even dazed and concussed, Kory was still strong, and short of taking out her legs, there was little Raven could do to stop her.

Kory raised the gun, frowning in frustration when everything just kept _swaying_ and she couldn't focus on Talia. She didn't have time for this. Kory pulled the trigger once, twice, three times, until there was a high pitched yelp and Talia fell.

Raven was still trying to hold her back even as Kory approached Talia, limping forward with every step. Talia was clutching her abdomen, blood seeping through her fingers, as she tried to stand.

Raising her weapon, Kory prepared for the final shot. But then, everything went blurry again, and suddenly it wasn't Talia lying on the ground, but the SHIELD agent from before, the one Kory had almost shot.

Kory's breath hitched. It caught in her throat and escaped her in short gasps. She squeezed her eyes shut. Opened them. Blinked again and it was Talia on the floor. Another wave of nausea and it was the SHIELD agent. Talia. The SHIELD agent.

No. Talia. It was Talia; Kory _knew_ it was Talia. Raven wouldn't let Kory shoot someone else. She tilted her head, looking at Raven.

Raven could see the confusion and the worry in Kory's eyes and whispered, "It's her."

Kory pressed the gun to Talia's temple to keep herself from missing, then closed her eyes and fired.


	53. Chapter 53: Reality Check

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Let's check in on how Director Stabby is doing, shall we? ;)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who continue to support one another and who make this story what it is :) Thanks to our rock stars, Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41, for making us smile every time we put up a new chapter, too. We also love Kory's fun way of speaking, and Gar is too precious for this world and we should all resolve to wrap him in blankets and give him cookies and milk ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty Three - Reality Check**

 **James 'Logan' Howlett and Agent Skye**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key." -Elizabeth Wurtzel_

" _Whether people be of high or low birth, rich or poor, old or young, enlightened or confused, they are all alike in that they will one day die." ― Tsunetomo Yamamoto_

* * *

 **James 'Logan' Howlett**

 **Twenty Fourth Victor and SHIELD Director**

* * *

 _Sharp pain high on his leg shifted from a burning sensation to feeling as if someone was sliding a hand over his skin. Logan could feel someone pressing him backward, and he couldn't raise his arms, but he could hear Viper's soft laugh in his ear as her lips brushed his neck …_

 _His vision swam as Viper's image shifted into Helena. "You're not allowed to die," Helena instructed him briskly. "You may outrank me, but I'm not having it." He watched her frown down at him as he struggled to take a breath, and a moment later there was an oxygen mask over his face. He tried to raise his hand to move the mask and realized that he was restrained. He growled and yanked at the straps ineffectively. Helena shook her head, and rested a hand over the wrist nearest her. "Calm down. It's just to keep you from slashing anyone by accident." She moved her hand to rest it gently on his chest. While her voice was soothing, her expression was concerned. Logan had seen that expression before, onscreen, when Grayson was ―_

 _"I'm serious, Logan. You aren't going anywhere on my watch."_

 _He closed his eyes, but that was clearly a mistake, since when he opened them again, it was Viper's hand on his chest, somehow keeping him from sitting up and weighing down on him like lead. Her other hand reached up to cover the mask on his face as his panic level ratcheted higher. "Just relax. I won't let you_ die _."_

* * *

Logan sat up with a gasp. He was sweating, his heart was racing, and he couldn't place where he _was_. He could remember the sensation of having been _drugged_ … not only the dart but the way his head swam when the dosed drinks hit him or when they straight up injected him all those times since his 'victory tour'. Images of Viper flashed before his closed eyes … then shifted as various other faces from the Capitol slipped uninvited into his conscious thought until he was hyperventilating. His chest felt as if it was being crushed. It was hard to breathe …his hands were shaking so badly that he couldn't focus enough to ball up the blanket under him in his fist…. He had to get control of himself. _Fast._

His heart was _still_ racing, and his choices were either allow himself to let the panic overtake him or attempt to put to use whatever he could remember from his training. His first few attempts at slowing his breathing were entirely fruitless, and Logan found himself swearing as it seemed to get worse. He wanted to run, to push himself hard until he couldn't breathe from exhaustion, but that wasn't really feasible when he could hardly manage to get to his feet. He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember something centering.

The mental image of sunrise over the nearest ridge lasted long enough to dissolve into fire ripping through the trees in his mind with Wayne manor in flames in the foreground. His breaths came in short, desperate gasps … and he tried again, this time working on something more specific.

In a moment, he was remembering stalking through the trees, forcing himself to recall every careful step he'd taken on one particular day near a small, lesser known lake nearby. The young trees were bending gently in the early summer breezes and as Logan recreated every movement in his mind's eye, he could feel his breath coming easier, steadier, and more slowly. Once he got started on the memory, he was sure to let it play out, since it was one that rarely failed him. That day had started as a hunt, but ended with his weapons forgotten as a young spotted fawn with bright, wide eyes let him pet her soft, downy fur once he'd crept close enough to touch the doe at her side.

Logan opened his eyes and looked around the room, still cycling his breathing as he reached for a slightly deeper calmness. He could at least see where he was, and though that didn't help his anxiety level much, it was a reminder that he wasn't in the Capitol, and he wasn't with _Viper._

It was still dark out, and it was hard to tell in the house what time it was without a clock. It had to be early, and he hadn't been to bed for long, but he wasn't going back to sleep after that. Logan stared at rug on the floor for a moment before a shiver passed down his spine … prompting him to get up _fast._ He dressed silently and padded over to the balcony to step outside, where it only took a few minutes to get his bearings. By his best measure, it was about an hour before dawn; the skies were at their blackest, and the cold wind off the mountains had stilled. But Logan was restless.

If he'd waited for sunrise, Logan knew he'd see the colors starting to show on the trees. So much had been happening, so much had _changed_ … leaving him with nothing but an even heavier feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 _I shouldn't be here_ , Logan thought to himself bitterly as he listened to the sounds of the forest beyond the walls of the Howlett Estate. The call of the wild was both a balm for his soul and a dangerous distraction to his focus. As much as he wanted to run into the forest's embrace and disappear … the code he'd taken to heart was whispering in his ear that it would be cowardly to do so with so many relying on him. And that had him cursing himself even harder.

So many had died under his watch. And for some reason, though the mission to kill Viper had been wildly successful, Logan had also lived through it. That … he really hadn't planned for that. He glanced over to the dresser on the far wall where the letter Wade had written him outlining his feelings on the matter still sat, only _slightly_ crumpled after Logan read it. Wade hadn't done his job. Not how Logan had hired him to, anyhow — not that it surprised him in the least. _Hope you're enjoying your money, ya freakin' nutjob,_ Logan thought bitterly to himself.

Deeply lost in his thoughts, Logan was surprised to find himself stepping into his father's old study a short while later. There was already coffee brewing near the window; other than the sounds of the little machine percolating away, the office rang with a hollow, muted _tic-tock_ from the old walnut grandfather clock standing near the door. The office, like the rest of the house, had an abundance of rich, deeply-colored, hand-carved woods — black walnut, cherry, and mahogany inlaid with bird's eye maple, which accented the warmer woods with almost metallic golden swirls.

With a cup of coffee in hand, Logan took a rare moment alone. As long as he was in the study, Mrs. Hopkins wouldn't fret over him. Which was probably _why_ he was there so early. He was exhausted, but when he started to slow down, he found himself sliding toward a panic attack. Every. Time.

Logan stared out the window as dawn began to warm up the skies and sounds of movement deeper in the house became easier to decipher. Around the country, talk about how to progress into a new form of leadership that _wasn't_ a monarchy was already in the air. People had growing _hope_ for the first time in decades.

As he reached the bottom of his first cup of coffee, Logan glanced over at the old grandfather clock. Time had slipped past him quicker than he'd expected, and Skye was due any moment with the newest information from the districts. Hydra was on the ropes.

Logan pulled a few papers over — reports on how things were moving along. But … he didn't have much time to prep ahead of the wave as the remaining powers that be from SHIELD began to trickle in. Coulson was first, and he was quick to hand over a report and summarize what his sources in the air had to say. Logan refilled his mug as he listened, and then took the folder to sit down at the desk while the others came in, chatting among themselves. He barely shifted how he was sitting to make room as Skye slipped him a tablet with live updates on troop movement and Hill began to start the debrief on their latest successful strikes.

And it wasn't even eight o'clock yet.

Logan absently glanced up when Bruce Wayne slipped into the office. The strategizing session was in full swing by that time, and the room was fairly full, even for as large as it was. In addition to Hill, Coulson, and Quartermain, SHIELD's old watch was joining their conference via secured and highly encrypted lines that Fitz and Stark had created between them.

It hadn't missed Logan's notice that the men and women that had survived the kickoff of the revolution and transfer of power within SHIELD had, for the most part, learned to look at most of his suggestions with fresh eyes, and if he was being perfectly honest, he kind of hated it. It was one thing when Hill could only smirk at the attack plans they were using when before she would have argued heatedly on every point. It was another sensation entirely to have them avidly hanging on his every word.

Logan repressed the desire to shift his stance under their attention. They were all waiting _._ And mercifully, before the silence could fully take over, Hill had started speaking in a pleased and almost excited undertone about how the troops' morale couldn't have been higher. "They're energized," Hill was saying, "in part because they know now that their director is willing to dive into the trenches _with_ them."

"Well," Quartermain said with a shrug. "It helps that they can see that as long as we stay on track — we're _winning,_ too _."_

But Logan was tuning them out. He rested his thumb and forefinger across his brow, shading his eyes from them and staring at the tablet in front of him as they talked. There was a deep aching sensation in the center of his chest that seemed to radiate out, down his spine, into the pit of his stomach, leaving a rippling numbness in its wake as it seemed to try to drag all sorts of buried emotion with it. _Pain,_ sorrow, rage … panic creeping up from the edges as he saw the photos from the casualties they were sustaining.

It seemed like no matter what move he made ... the wrong people were dying. And every one of them meant more blood on his hands.

He'd thought the strike on Viper was going to fix that.

While Coulson talked about the risk assessment that he'd just finished for the liberation of Districts Six and Ten, Logan scrubbed a hand over his face. Both looked like they were going to be another _solid_ fight, but not unwinnable. He honestly didn't know why they kept asking him for every little thing now that they had a reasonable idea of how to handle it. It wasn't like his philosophy was hard to follow. Find a weakness and then _attack_. Hard. Keep hitting them until they were dead and then make sure they didn't get back up. It was pretty simple, really.

When he realized they were waiting on him, Logan quickly found his place in the intel that most matched up to what they were discussing and quietly said what he thought would work best before the morning meeting broke up.

Coulson and Hill headed out, chatting amicably between them, with Quartermain only staying long enough to get another cup of coffee before he left as well. Bruce stayed put long after the transmission from the other SHIELD people ended, though he wasn't really in Logan's focus when Logan was so preoccupied looking at the tablet, going over the casualties. The more seasoned SHIELD personnel were focused on the damage the districts themselves were sustaining, but Logan couldn't help but see the people that had nothing to do with it caught up in the middle.

He was so distracted with what he was looking at, he missed what Skye had said to him entirely. And he missed the playful teasing that came after she realized he'd missed what she said. "Come on, Logan," Skye said in a bright tone, her smirk crooked as she settled in next to him. "Or do I need to put you on the ground _again_ to get your attention?"

"You gonna take long figurin' out this feed issue in Three? Or are you steppin' down from this side of things entirely to go with May and the rest of Coulson's team?" Logan asked her, frowning deeply with his focus on the intel. It wasn't until he glanced over at her lack of an answer that he saw that Skye had lost her smile entirely. He couldn't figure out why on earth she was suddenly looking so pale.

"Ah … yeah. I'll just … I'll get right on it," she said in a subdued tone, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I'll get it straightened up." Without more than a backward glance, Skye gathered up her laptop and rushed from the room.

"What was that?" Bruce asked, frowning Logan's way even before the door closed behind Skye fully.

"What?" Logan had gone right back to everything in front of him … reports of girls at risk going missing in Two … kids separated from their parents … Hydra testing Seven's boundaries and getting a nasty wake-up call from the lumberjacks there …

"J- _Logan,"_ Bruce said a bit more sharply. "You can't possibly be that blind to how that girl _feels_ about you."

"What? It's not my job to give a damn about every little frikkin' thing. I can't make everyone happy either. That's not in my job description, an' it sure as hell ain't how I want to live," Logan growled out defensively.

"Bushido," Bruce said, and though his tone was clear and even, he looked angry.

"What about it?" Logan asked, glaring up at him, his face still downturned.

"I thought Bushido meant something to you," Bruce said. "But you're blasting your way through every one of the virtues it stands for." When Logan frowned and squared up to him, Bruce continued. "The _first_ virtue of Bushido, James: _Justice._ "

But at that, Logan's temper flared. "You would think it meant that. Ya lost it in translation. It's a little more specific than _just_ justice. It's rectitude," Logan countered. "Deciding on a path and not wavering from it. To strike when to strike is right—"

"And to die when it's _right_ to die," Bruce said, a bit more fire behind his eyes. "Do you think I don't know that you were planning to die when you went to Viper? That wasn't following the codes of Bushido. That was giving up — and it _completely_ undermines every one of the other virtues that code stands for." He remained outwardly calm as he held Logan's gaze.

"What the hell do you know about it?" Logan said low, barely speaking over a whisper.

"Death for a cause unworthy of dying for is a dog's death. True _courage_ is to live when it's right to live and to die _only_ when it's right to die. You don't see what everyone around you sees, James. Yes, the districts are coming together, but it's because of who's at the helm. Do you really think that Maria Hill could get Four and Eleven to fight together without making it sound like an order? Or that Erik Lensherr could do _anything_ but wage an endless war treating people like chess pieces rather than human beings if left unchecked?"

Logan opened his mouth to argue, and Bruce cut him off. "You don't see it because you _still_ can't see your own worth. You're the one that ties in _everyone's_ interests. You've been sure not to strike unless it was to stop a threat to the _people_ at risk. People trust you, James. They like you, and they believe in you, if for no other reason than because you were the first to step up publicly and call out Thanos."

Logan dropped his gaze and shook his head. "You're blowin' all of it out of proportion," Logan said. "I haven't …" _earned it. Don't deserve it_ , Logan thought to himself.

"Haven't what? Considered what losing you might do to the people around you? No, I don't suspect you have," Bruce said, his eyes flashing. "Do you think that Nick Fury would have picked you to replace him if you weren't _worthy_ of the title? Or that Helena would have bent over backward like she did to keep you alive on the way back from that _idiotic_ suicide mission?" Bruce took a breath, and Logan was obviously off-balance as he continued. "Make no mistake, James … had your friend slipped up and killed you … it would have _destroyed her_."

Logan closed his eyes on hearing that, because of course, Bruce was right. And he hadn't … considered how Kate would handle it. Or anyone else. It was amazingly hard to ignore that Bruce felt he had a personal stake for as heated as he was getting. But Logan had no response. Not yet.

For a long moment, the two of them simply stayed as they were, with Bruce towering over Logan and Logan staring at his hands like a kid that was getting set straight by an angry parent. As the two of them held position, the door to the study cracked open, and a moment later, Alfred stepped in with a tray in his hands. Both Logan and Bruce straightened up — years of proper training from well-meaning, wealthy parents kicking in automatically.

"So sorry to interrupt, Master Bruce, but Agent Quartermain mentioned that you might be low on coffee in here," Alfred said. "And I thought if the two of you were to continue chatting, a bit of civility might be just the thing to keep you both doing so well."

"Thank you, Alfred," both Logan and Bruce replied at the same time, which seemed to be the thing to break Bruce's hard and angry facade. The butler smiled and didn't wait for the invitation to refill Logan's cup, not giving him a choice in the matter, even as Bruce refused the same. The two of them waited until Alfred left before Bruce broke the silence.

"If all that wasn't enough for you to consider the consequences of your actions … it would have robbed me of the chance to thank you." Bruce's tone was much more subdued, even gentle now. "I can't begin to list the _many_ things you've done to help my kids both in the arena and out. You went to lengths that no one in your position had ever considered before. And I know that cost you dearly, even if you haven't told me how bad it got for you in the Capitol." Bruce let out a sigh. "You've done incredible things for them. Both of them. Not the least of which has been helping Dick since he returned from Viper."

When Logan glanced up, Bruce leaned forward and spoke in a more earnest tone. "I _know_ you talked to him, and I know you can help others that have been through the hideous mess that this war will leave behind, too" He gestured around them. "Even your father never took his generosity to this degree, James. You learned well from him — and have made _such a difference already._ I truly want to see what you can do when you have the weight of the world off your shoulders."

"You're exaggerating," Logan said, turning to the coffee as a means to escape the conversation. He was mid sip, allowing the richly-scented, burning hot liquid to help him refocus as Bruce took a seat again.

"No, if anything, I'm underselling it," Bruce said. "Consider the orphans you've opened your home to or the fact that you've got all of the leaders of our district looking to you for your opinion. Even if you don't want to consider SHIELD … consider us. We've thought highly of you your whole life, and you're only proving us right with the good you do."

"Can we please … just … not do this?" Logan said quietly.

"No," Bruce said. "It's long overdue."

Bruce kept talking, listing out the many _good_ things that he'd seen Logan do — not just during the war but during his time in District Seven, taking care of anyone who needed it. Obviously, this was something Bruce had been building toward for a while, and he'd done his homework well. He knew everything. From the fact that he'd given his tesserae to a family that had lost their breadwinner to little things like helping Elsie Dee with her lost cat.

And somewhere in the middle of all of it, Logan found himself closing his eyes for longer moments and having serious trouble focusing. His hands slid from the top of the desk to the edge as he could feel his muscles relaxing, though that had him in an honest panic that he couldn't quite express.

Bruce looked perfectly calm as he crossed the span between them and pushed Logan back into his chair, all while Logan tried and _failed_ to focus properly. "What'd you do?" Logan slurred out thickly, realizing that he'd been drugged. _The coffee._ He couldn't believe he'd thought he was safe from that garbage here.

"You're exhausted," Bruce said in a tone that meant he'd come to a decision and had decided this was the best way forward, even as Logan's eyes drifted shut for longer. "You're lashing out at people I know you don't want to lash out at." In a more gentle tone he added, "You're better than that."

When Logan tried to respond, to _tell him_ that it wasn't his damn business … or that Skye wasn't his bodyguard … or any _number_ of choice remarks Logan had on deck and ready to go, it barely came out as a soft grumble at the back of his throat, even as Bruce moved in. Whatever Alfred had used … it worked fast. When his eyes closed solidly, Logan could still hear as Alfred returned and immediately started to help Bruce.

Logan couldn't move, but he could feel _them_ moving him. The sensation was enough like what had happened in the Capitol that Logan could feel the panic attack trying to let loose … but the drugs were stronger, and unconsciousness won out.

* * *

 **Agent Skye**

 **Former Terrorist and Current Bodyguard to the Director**

* * *

" _If we will be quiet and ready enough, we shall find compensation in every disappointment." - Henry David Thoreau_

* * *

Skye would have been lying through her teeth if she'd said that she wasn't upset at the end of that particular morning meeting. Things were going well with the war, and Logan had been easy to work with. Until he'd come back from that mission — but she couldn't fault him for it. Not when _every_ time he had gotten anywhere near Viper, she'd managed to drug him.

She had just … she'd _thought_ he'd lighten up a little with such a big win. And every bit of intel she'd given him on their progress since he'd woken up after that mission had been positive. All of it. Which only made it more confusing when he was acting so … _defeated._

But that didn't quite fit either. Skye frowned to herself, ignoring the kids that were playing in the hall as she drew herself up. Her laptop was balanced on her knees, and she was sitting on her bed … trying to get past the shock as she pushed to do her _job_.

She'd loved being at the Howlett Estate.… The staff was warm and friendly; the place was bustling with life. But now, for the first time, she felt entirely isolated.

"Focus, Skye," she muttered to herself. "He's not … _himself_." _But then,_ she thought, _when has he had a chance to do that?_ As she always did when she had something on her mind, Skye started to dig, not only into the intel that Logan needed for the next moves but also into just … whatever she could hack through. Hydra's servers were simple enough for her at this point, and it was hardly a challenge when she was in a mood like this. Remembering that Hydra's leader had just drugged her all-time favorite director to the point that he was just ….

"Why are all the hot ones crazy?" Skye muttered to herself quietly, doubling down on her hack as she adjusted her earphones and turned up the music.

She was just getting into a good groove when she managed to patch the trouble spot in the feed from Three — just like Logan had asked. Kind of. Her smile once again fell as she thought of how that meeting had ended, and for what had to be the millionth time, Skye questioned if she'd been too unprofessional, if the little teasing about tackles was one step over the line … but … that didn't make sense when she thought of the way he'd been joking and _smiling_ with her in Four.

No. It _had_ to be the Viper thing.

Skye pulled her earbuds out and gathered up her intel. All of it was in order now. _Every bit._ As she made her way back to Logan's office, she started running through what she was going to say. _Keep it professional. Keep it chill. Make him come to you if he's interested. Or … whatever._

She was holding her breath as she stopped in front of the study doors, and after a moment, she drew herself up — her best professional expression in place — and opened the door, only to gape at the scene in front of her.

Logan was dead to the world, and Bruce Wayne and Alfred were trying to pick him up, with Bruce at Logan's shoulders and Alfred clearly ready to pick him up at the knees. Which was a little too much for Skye to handle.

"What the hell are you doing?" Skye almost hissed, closing the study door behind her.

Both Bruce and Alfred looked up, then glanced at each other. "He needed rest," Bruce explained. "He hasn't been sleeping."

"What did you _do_?" she said, eyes wide as she set her laptop down on the desk, gesturing broadly at the scene in front of her.

"It's nothing terribly strong," Alfred promised. "And it's not habit-forming at all. I've used this very thing on Master Bruce—"

"You _drugged him_?" Skye said, looking more horrified as she stared between the two of them and began to pace, clearly upset. " _What is wrong with you!"_

" _Only_ to get him to sleep," Bruce said. "He can't even _begin_ to recover in this state."

Skye was ready to pull her hair out — or hit both of them, even if she knew they could _both_ take her down. "No. You don't _get_ it," she said in a long groan. "This? This whole … _thing_? This is what they did to him _all the time_ in the Capitol. And I don't mean just Viper! The … _SHIELD_ was drugging him for the people _paying_ to spend the night with him. You don't think he went along with that peacefully, do you?"

Bruce and Alfred shared a look, and Alfred especially looked horrified. "That was _not_ our intention, Miss Skye, I assure you," he said, even as Bruce looked more concentrated on getting Logan to his room.

"That was the whole reason I got put on his protective detail," Skye said, blushing with her anger. "Because _people_ were drugging him all the time."

"Then what do _you_ suggest?" Bruce said, still carrying Logan to his room and pausing at the door.

"I'd suggest _not_ drugging him just because he won't listen to you," Skye said. "That's not a power move, that's just … _crap_."

Bruce gave her a dry look. "It's not because he won't listen to me; it's because he's gotten to a point that his mind and body _need_ the rest, and he won't give himself the chance, even unconsciously. Or hadn't you noticed the only time he sleeps is when he's in medical under Dr. Simmons' care?"

Skye rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Oh yeah, I'm sure he'll see it that way when _you_ explain to him what you two did."

"I was under the impression _you_ wanted to take over," Bruce shot back with a bit of heat. "Since you're clearly the expert."

She uncrossed her arms, her hands in fists at her side. "Well that's just not … _what_?"

"You're his bodyguard," Bruce said.

"He took me off that detail," she shot back, following them up the stairs.

"In order to get himself killed," Bruce said, still in that infuriatingly even tone. "I would think your duty to protect him includes a duty to protect him from _himself_ , so that order didn't count."

"Alright but … I'm very sure that won't fly with him when he wakes up ready to _murder_ you."

"Let me stay with you while you wait," Alfred offered.

"I'm sorry, what?" Skye said, frowning as she kept pace with them down the long hall to the last room. "I ... wasn't going to-"

"Well, you're clearly concerned," Alfred said as Skye held the door to Logan's room open for them to carry him through. "And really, it was _my_ concoction. I've used it so many times with Master Bruce, especially when he couldn't sleep after losing his wife. It seemed like the right solution to _this_ problem as well…"

At that, Skye turned toward Bruce with one eyebrow raised for a long while. "I am so not surprised."

Bruce didn't say anything as they laid Logan on his bed. "You should stay, Agent Skye," he said at last as he headed out. "He may be self-destructive at the moment, but you're one of the few people he actually _listens_ to. You might not realize it yet, but I've seen you with him often enough to know it's the truth."

Skye honestly didn't know what to say to that, so she was quiet as she watched the two of them take a moment to have what amounted to a nearly silent conversation that she was not privy to. "He doesn't really want me around right now, so I think you're a little off."

"He hasn't been himself," Bruce said. "Stay. Please."

"And do what?" Skye challenged. "I'm sure waking up to _another Capitolite_ in his bedroom won't be a problem _at all._ "

"I'll be here with you," Alfred promised gently. "You won't be alone in his bedroom, Miss Skye," he added, this time with an entirely different look. "At least, not when he _first_ wakes up."

She turned his way with her chin tipped up. "You are a _troublemaker_."

"I've been saying that since I was young," Bruce said with a smirk as he headed out. "Good luck."

"Still not going to cover for you," Skye sang out as Bruce left. "And I need my computer. I have _work_ to do, you know."

"I'll send it up to you."

"You know that's not a good look, right?" Skye called out a little louder. "The whole … running away thing? Not attractive."

Alfred chuckled at the expression on Bruce's face and then leaned over to rest a hand on Skye's arm. "I believe that's the wrong citizen of District Seven for you to be gauging for attractiveness," he teased.

"Hey, I'm just pointing out that he's running away like a scared little _kid_." Skye held both hands up at that.

"It _was_ my idea," Alfred said.

"Do you know about what happened in the Capitol, Alfred?" Skye asked. "Or maybe I should ask if you knew what they were doing to him — _them_ — the … the victors. I mean. Do you know what they were doing to the victors?"

Alfred watched her for a long moment before his expression shifted to something else entirely. "You really do care for him, don't you?" he asked gently.

She stammered for a moment and shored up what she could of her bravado. "I am _not_ the one on trial here."

"I shouldn't think any of us are. However, I do think you should tell James how you feel," Alfred said, still with that same expression. "He _needs_ to know he's not as alone as he believes himself to be. If you don't mind me saying, miss, something positive in his life would go a long way."

"I think you should … stop ... doing … that," Skye replied haltingly.

"Am I wrong?" Alfred asked with one eyebrow raised.

"I don't — that's not really a question I can … what … were we talking about?"

"Then I'm not wrong," Alfred said, sitting primly nearby so they could wait for Logan to wake up. "I do hope that Master Bruce thinks to bring me something to read when he fetches your laptop, since he seems to believe I should stay off my feet. Then perhaps you can tell me how it is that you became James' bodyguard."

Skye smirked at him for that. "It's kind of a mystery," she said. "I was a terrorist."

"Ah, say no more. A natural fit," Alfred chuckled.

Skye broke into a smile at that and couldn't help but laugh. "Do you ever _stop_?"

"Stop what, miss?" Alfred asked.

"What's the story with you and Mrs. Hopkins?" Skye asked, deciding that it was only _fair_. "You two making kissy faces over housework? That's the word in the halls."

"I would never be so undignified," Alfred said.

"As when you're making kissy faces?" Skye challenged. "Probably not."

Alfred chuckled and shook his head. "We're old friends. We've known each other for years. I was at her wedding… and, sadly, at her husband's funeral. He was a good friend of mine too."

"So … what are you waiting for?" Skye said. "Seems like a 'natural fit', after all."

Alfred watched her and then laughed and shook his head. "Maybe I require a good example to show me how it's done. I'm an old man; I haven't dated in decades."

"Yeah, I'm not a role model for that," she laughed. "I do _not_ have a good track record with men. Besides I think you've got plenty of simpler cases to look at already. Pretty much anyone but Natasha and Clint or worse yet, Fitz and Simmons. They've been dancing around each other for _way_ too long."

Alfred laughed and shook his head. "No. No one is a 'simple' case."

"Aww, come on. At least you're on the same _level_ ," she said. "And you've been close for a long time." She gestured to where Logan was laid out, not moving other than to breathe. "I'm not even kidding. I was homeless, living in my _van_ when SHIELD picked me up. He … is a _victor_ and the director of _SHIELD._ Not to mention this … whole … giant estate? Come on." By the time she'd finished, Skye was almost hugging herself, her shoulders shrugged up as she unconsciously made herself smaller.

"But that isn't how he met you," Alfred replied quietly. Skye gave him a dry look and Alfred tried to explain. "The two of you aren't as different as you think. Before he was Reaped, James was living in a tent in the woods — illegally, I might add."

Skye bit her lip, watching him for a long moment. "It's not the same, Alfred. It still doesn't change the other stuff. Just explains why he was so _good_ in his Games."

He frowned and tried a different angle. "You know, Mrs. Hopkins and I never would have become friends if she hadn't taken the time to reach out to me," Alfred said. "I'd hate to see anyone make the egregious mistake of failing to act."

"It's still not the same, but I appreciate your effort to play matchmaker."

"Appreciation is hard to express, but actions speak volumes," Alfred said, leaning back with a smile that got wider when Bruce arrived with Skye's laptop and a book for Alfred in his hand. The two of them settled in when Bruce left, and Alfred wore a troublemaking, almost smug smirk Skye's way the whole time he _didn't_ read his book as they waited for Logan to rouse.

* * *

It was hours before Logan finally moved — and it was clear that the wakeup was a slow one — but once he seemed to be conscious enough, Alfred leaned forward, looking as sincere as Skye had ever seen him.

"Please, accept my deepest apologies," he said. "I had no idea you would react so badly… I've often helped Master Bruce to sleep when he was at his worst after losing his wife. I thought I could apply the same remedy here and convinced Master Bruce to let me try it. I had no idea the background you had with such an experience, or I _promise_ you, we both would have found a different avenue to help you find some rest."

Logan was quiet for a long moment, but when he finally spoke, it was with a quiet rumble. "I didn't want any help."

"Neither did Master Bruce, often enough," Alfred said softly. "But I know that look, and I can't abide it on someone I care about. I was only trying to ease some of your suffering, and give you rest without dreams or memories to haunt you for a little while. It was often the case with Master Bruce that he woke up feeling better about the situation… or at least able to bear another day."

Logan frowned at the phrasing, but Skye noted that he didn't argue the point. "I'm fine."

"That's not at all true, but I can promise you I won't try that remedy again. Not with what Agent Skye explained to us about other instances you've been forced to endure."

Logan turned toward Skye, and she tried to hide her blush by turning to Alfred quickly to hit him hard in the arm. "Thanks for the _bus_ , Pennyworth."

Alfred smiled briefly as he got to his feet. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I have to make kissy faces at Mrs. Hopkins over housework," he said, perfectly straight-faced. "I'll leave you two to your _work_."

Skye blushed harder as Alfred started to leave, but it was Logan that got him to pause. "You're gonna break Mr. Kenneth's heart the way you're goin'."

"I thought he wasn't interested in anyone after he lost his wife," Alfred said slowly.

Logan raised an eyebrow and tipped his chin down. "Then you haven't seen the way he looks after her. Which is a shock for how much you're in everyone's affairs."

Alfred shook his head to himself, though he looked more thoughtful and less troublemaking as he said his polite goodbyes and left the room.

"So," Skye said after a long moment as Logan slowly swung his legs over the bed and sat there for a while. This was _not_ something she knew how to handle. And knowing that the staff and the competing rich guy across the way knew she _liked_ Logan did not help matters. "I'm back on your protective detail." She cringed at her own words. _That was dumb._

"Did you ever quit?" Logan asked as he rubbed his eyes with one hand and then peeked up at her with one eye closed.

"Well … you did tell me not to ... "

"When did that ever stop you?" Logan asked, then held out out a hand to keep her from speaking up. "I wasn't … that wasn't a jab. It's one of your better qualities." He let out a sigh that looked far wearier that he should have been capable of expressing. "I didn't mean what I said before. You can do whatever it is you'd like. Just came out more harsh than it should've. Pick your team or assignment or whatever, and it's yours."

"That sounds like favoritism, director," Skye replied with a little smirk.

Logan sighed again and ran his hand through his hair but clearly didn't have any way to argue the point, which only had Skye trying to repress the grin. But when he finally set his hand down again, he didn't even try to look up at her.

"Hey," Skye said, resting her hand on his arm, which at least got him to look up at her. He still had that … haunted, lonely expression. And that was _not_ what Skye wanted to see. "I don't _want_ to go with Coulson's team. Not all the time, anyhow."

"Then what the hell do you want?" Logan asked, still looking a little lost — but that seemed to be just the opening Skye was looking for.

Before she could censor herself, Skye leaned forward and stole a kiss that wasn't … entirely polite. Which was totally not what she thought she was going to do. For an instant, she was both mortified and thrilled with herself, but it was a little too late to unring that bell, especially considering how quickly it had happened.

She felt Logan's hand at her side, and before she could pull away, she realized he was kissing her back and pulling her closer. So naturally, she _ran with it._ When the kiss broke, she smiled broadly, especially since he wasn't pushing her away — even if she'd pushed him flat. Which was when it hit her that this _might_ not be the best idea, considering that she knew what kind of crap he'd been through in the Capitol. But before she had the mind to back away, he had one hand tangled up in her hair as they stared at each other. And Skye found herself in a situation she honestly hadn't prepared for.

"Are you going to freak out on me because I'm from the Capitol?" Skye asked quietly, though he was close enough she could feel his breath.

"No."

"Good," she said with a grin, before they picked up where they left off.


	54. Chapter 54: Spurned

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! This time, we're back in District Four after that surprise twist we threw at you last time we were here. BstnStrng13's John is amazing as usual.**

 **Thanks to the writers who reviewed for your continuing support. And thanks also to SlimSummers2002 ("why Bruce is sad" is really a whole essay :P) and to TheRaspberryVigilante41 (we love our slow-burn ships over here; we really do. We're seriously thrilled that you're so emotionally invested in all the characters, because all of our writers have put so much effort into making them the best they can be!)**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty-Four - Spurned**

 **John Constantine**

 **District Four**

 **Written by BstnStrng13**

* * *

" _You were as much in my hands as water, darkness or nothing can ever be held." Jeff Foucault, from "Northbound 35"_

" _When the sun has set, no candle can replace it."_ George R.R. Martin

John wiped the perspiration off his forehead and surveyed the progress on the bridge with satisfaction. It was good to be swinging a hammer under the mid-morning sun instead of swinging his axe in battle. The sky was a cloudless blue, a light breeze brushed cool air across his face, and his muscles felt strong and limber. Plus, after so many weeks of seeing the destruction caused by Hydra, it was good simply to _build_ something.

Hydra had not discriminated among the sectors of District Four when they had launched their bombs. Asgard, Atlantis, and the Amazons had all sustained damage to their infrastructures, and the small bridges that spanned dozens of narrow channels throughout Four had been particularly hard hit. John had been spending much of his time with the citizens of Four on reconstruction projects, piling rocks into piers, hammering lumber, and generally putting the strength he'd developed in his new body to a worthy use.

He liked it. The people of Four were welcoming, and it was not unusual for one of the work crew to extend John a dinner invitation at the end of the day. He learned that he was of interest to them, the tribute from Twelve who had friends in the inner circles of the Atlanteans, Asgardians and Amazons. They wanted to hear his impressions of Four, talk about the Games, and even (for a few bolder souls) ask what it was like to have been brought back via the Tahiti program.

John appreciated their kindness and did his best to provide answers, even while it required him to develop a new set of diplomatic skills. Because, inevitably, the dinner conversation would arrive at the same subject:

" _So, tell me, lad," the grizzled Asgardian warrior (or Atlantean diver or elegant Amazon matron) would say, leaning forward with a smile. "Asgard (or Atlantis or Amazon) was the true hero of the battle, yes? Hydra would have vanquished Four if not for our people."_

 _John would stare at the platter of beautifully prepared fish, tempted to reply that the victory actually belonged to a battalion of stylists who had a talent for explosives as well as a great eye for color._

 _His host would then nudge John's elbow and add, "This is just between you and me, lad. I understand that you wish to remain friendly with all. But you can tell me; it will not leave this house."_

 _And, in desperation, John would call on his sleight of hand skills to levitate the fish platter, make knives disappear, or cause some equally amusing distraction in an effort to change the subject._

The bridge he was working on today was nearly completed, so there was no crew plying him with questions. Only he and Kaldur were there, securing the last planks onto the cross-beams and testing the bridge for soundness.

John had been surprised when Kaldur had volunteered to join him. The diver had been busy with Diana, trying to finalize the details of Four's leadership in a way that satisfied all the leading families. With the heat of the battle behind them, it was proving difficult, despite the revelation that Di carried the blood of both the Amazons and the Asgardians in her veins. John had been present for some of the discussions and knew that the Atlanteans were concerned about _their_ representation in the future of Four. From what he'd seen of Arthur Curry, he had a feeling the man would not easily accept compromises.

Kaldur was uncharacteristically quiet this morning and John wondered if the negotiations were wearing on him. He'd never been boisterously chatty like Thor, but he and John typically maintained a pattern of easy conversation when they worked together. Today, however, the diver was silent as he dragged boards and nailed them down with half-hearted strokes. Several times, he stopped working altogether and looked at John as if he wanted to say something, only to resume hammering.

After an hour, John began to think that Kaldur's reticence wasn't due to concern for the negotiations but instead about John personally. He worried that he'd committed some offense and Kaldur had joined him to correct him — albeit reluctantly. John knew he was not well-educated in Four's customs; it was very possible that he'd upset a host at one of the dinners. Who could be certain? Maybe levitating seafood was considered disrespectful.

Finally, Kaldur laid down his hammer. "Can we talk?"

His eyes were hesitant and filled with something that John recognized as empathy. A chill ran down his spine, despite the warm sunshine. _This is more serious than a small offense,_ he thought. _I'm going to be told I can't stay_. _Kaldur's going to thank me for all I've done but tell me that Four's leading families feel I should return to my own district._

John swallowed hard. "Okay."

Kaldur walked over and lowered himself to sit on the side of the bridge, tugging on John's arm to pull him alongside. Nervous, John gazed at his feet, dangling a few feet above the channel. _The water's not deep_ , he ruminated. _If I fall, I'll bet it's only up to my chest. Whatever happens, I won't drown._

He turned to look at Kaldur.

The diver cleared his throat. "You are aware that Diana and I have been attempting to unite Four under a single leader."

John nodded.

"You've been in some of the discussions; you also know that it has not been easy," Kaldur continued. "Diana is the logical choice, despite her youth. The Amazons and Asgardians believe she will speak for them because of her blood. And she has demonstrated her courage and wisdom both in the Games and in the war against Hydra."

John nodded again. _She's certainly done that_.

"But my people, the Atlanteans, have resisted. They do not believe they will carry as much import in her thoughts because they have no blood tie to her."

"Then they don't know her very well," John said quickly, forgetting for a moment his worries about his own future. Di would do what was right for _all_ of Four. Anyone with a brain should be able to see that.

Kaldur's concerned look disappeared, and he smiled. "No," he agreed. "They don't." Then, his smile faded as he took off his work gloves and placed them in his lap. "They do not know her the way you and I do, and they wrongly question her integrity. But Arthur Curry has proposed a solution to bring our people together, and Diana and I believe it is a good one."

"Really? Well, that's great news." When Kaldur continued to stare soberly at his gloves, John added, "Isn't it?"

Kaldur exhaled. "Yes. It is good news." He looked up and met John's gaze. "The solution," he said slowly, "is for Diana and I to wed."

 _Wed_. It took a moment for the word to make sense to John. He had been expecting a different conversation, and his mind struggled to make the adjustment from him violating a cherished custom to Di and Kaldur getting married. He was forced to repeat it several times in his mind.

 _Di is going to marry Kaldur. Di is going to be married. Di and I will never_ —

It felt as though someone had dropped a heavy weight on his chest.

"It will be public knowledge soon," Kaldur continued, "and I wished you to hear it from me before that happens. I—" He stumbled a little. "I know how you feel about her, John, so I know this is not easy to hear. I hope it will not impact our friendship. I have come to value it highly."

The weight on his chest was growing heavier, making it hard for John to breathe. He forced himself to say the words out loud. "Di is going to marry you."

"Yes."

"And she's happy about this plan?" Spoken aloud, John's question sounded rude, almost unkind. He had not intended it that way. It was the surprise, he told himself.

Fortunately, Kaldur appeared to understand. His eyes remained full of sympathy. "I believe she is pleased about what this means for the future of Four," he said gently. "As am I." He rested a hand on John's shoulder. "I'm sorry, John. I am bringing you pain, which is the last thing I would ever wish to do."

He meant it. John could hear it in his voice. And suddenly, he felt foolish. He realized that somewhere, over time, he had come to believe that Di would never commit herself to anyone, that she would dedicate her life to a larger purpose. They had gotten close in the Games, he and Di, and he had openly declared his love, only to have it returned with the warmth of her…friendship. She had appreciated the gift of his heart but had not reciprocated. He was not normally conceited, yet somehow, he had managed to take those facts and twist them into believing that if she could not return his love, there was a chance she might not ever love anyone.

He shook his head. _Foolish_.

"I'm sorry," Kaldur repeated, looking anxiously at John.

John tried to shrug. "There's nothing to be sorry for. Di and I have never had an understanding. And what I said to her in the Games… well, that was a lifetime ago — literally another life. A lot has changed." His voice trailed off.

But of course Kaldur wasn't fooled. He was always so bloody perceptive. _Often more_ _perceptive than Di_ , John thought.

"You still have the same soul," Kaldur said. "The same soul that reached out to hers in the Games, no matter what Tahiti did to your body. And it is clear to anyone who sees you now that your feelings have not altered."

"Maybe." John stiffened his spine and gazed resolutely at Kaldur. "But she's never said the words back to me. And if this marriage unites Four and makes the two of you happy, then it is a good thing. You are both such honorable people — the best I have ever met. You deserve to be with the person you love." Kaldur frowned a little as John added, "You _do_ love her, right?"

The diver's frown was replaced by a thoughtful expression. "I know that I love her, John. I am no fool; I know my heart. And yet I think I love her as I love my king. I care for her deeply and would do everything in my power to keep her safe, even from her own follies. I will simply have to learn to love her as a wife and not a sister in arms."

John nodded dully. He remembered the first time he'd realized that he loved Di. It had occurred as he'd watched her sleep next to their campfire in the Games. She was dirty, her beauty dulled by mud and fatigue, and her temper earlier in the day had been a little short. They had even bickered over something — he couldn't recall precisely what. But he knew, as he'd looked at her sleeping form, that he would walk through fire for her. And later, when she'd awoken and smiled at him, he'd felt a shot of happiness streak through him that the horror of the Games could not diminish. There was no _learning_ involved. It had simply happened.

"John?" Kaldur was looking at him worriedly.

John did his best to shake off the memory. Kaldur was a good man; if he said he would love Di, then he would. _And,_ John reminded himself, _there's no force on the planet that can_ _make Diana Prince do something that_ she _doesn't want to do. So she must want this marriage, too._

He ran a hand through his unruly hair and sighed. "I'll need a little time to adjust," he said lamely. "But please believe me when I say that I wish you only happiness." He didn't attempt to force a smile, because he knew Kaldur would see through it.

Kaldur's gaze became kind. "I can finish here," he suggested, gesturing at the bridge. "Perhaps you might like to speak with Diana? It is difficult for her to find a moment to herself these days, but I know she will want to talk with you."

John nodded again. "Okay." He didn't know what else to say.

* * *

John didn't go to Di — not that day. He'd done a reasonable job maintaining his composure with Kaldur, but maintaining it with Di was going to be another thing. One look into those sea-blue eyes, now confirmed forever out of reach, and he was afraid he might weep. He needed to get a grip on his emotions before he talked to her.

So he went to the shore.

There was a spot on the beach that he had started to think of as his. It was sheltered by large rocks, and when the tide receded, it left small pools of waist-high salty water that grew warm in the sun. John had been teaching himself to float in those pools with some success, although he was far from ready to submerge his body in the waves. The place was private and had become for him what the mine tunnels in Twelve had once been: a refuge where he could be alone with his thoughts.

Today, he made no effort to swim. He sat on the rocks and stared at the waves as they rolled in and out. Normally, their endless cycle was soothing — hypnotic, even — but their motion now brought little comfort. John wished for his sister, if only to have her hug him and say in her gentle voice that everything would work out.

Instead, he got Thor. The Asgardian approached as the afternoon rays of the sun slanted across the water, casting the rocks in a golden glow and turning Thor's hair to a light shade of blonde. His long strides were purposeful, yet easy, as if he were walking on the paved roads of the Capitol rather than soft, yielding sand.

Thor lowered himself to sit next to John. "I thought I might find you here."

John nodded and didn't look up. He wasn't surprised the Asgardian prince had come to see him. Thor had an uncanny knack for knowing what was happening in Four, often before the leaders.

"I heard," Thor added unnecessarily. "I'm sorry."

John nodded again and picked up a small, smooth rock and rolled it between his fingers. "Have you ever played that game with yourself — where you want something so badly you pretend that you don't really want it, because you think it will hurt less when you don't get it?"

Thor cocked an eyebrow as he sorted through John's question. "I don't think so."

John shrugged and threw the rock into the water. "Just as well — because it doesn't work."

Thor smiled, but it was a smile of understanding, not humor. "I'll try to remember that." He rested a hand on John's shoulder and joined him in staring at the ocean. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, Thor sighed. "This marriage is a very good thing for Four, John. It will unify our people in a way that nothing else could."

John pressed his lips together. "And for Di and Kaldur? Is it a good thing for them? They will have a lot of years to spend together _after_ Four is unified."

"Aye. But they are fond of each other," Thor said matter-of-factly. "Surely you have seen that."

John nodded reluctantly. "Yes. They have become good friends. And Kaldur says he will learn to love her as his wife. As for Di — well, she doesn't exactly wear her heart on her sleeve, so I have no idea how _she_ feels." He picked up another stone and worried it in his hand. "I would just like to be certain that she is happy about the marriage. It would be easier to accept if I knew that."

Thor raised his eyebrow. "Truly?"

John laughed in spite of himself. "Well, maybe not. I don't know. I'm trying to be a good guy here, Thor. I'm counting on you to help me be a grown-up about this."

Thor chuckled. "I am certain you will be, in time. But, for now, I believe you are entitled to grieve a little. Anyone who has seen you with Diana knows how you feel."

"Oh, great," John muttered. "So that means half of Four is going to be pitying me."

Thor shook his head and patted John on the shoulder. "Only a third of Four — at the most."

"Terrific."

"And it is not pity," Thor added more soberly. "It is empathy… and respect." He picked up his own stone and threw it into the ocean, much farther than John had been able to throw his. "You _have_ been a grown-up, John. You have not made your feelings a burden for Diana — or for any of us. You have not troubled her with them; you have allowed her to lead and to fight with a clear mind. For a girl like Diana… like my _sister_ ," he amended, "that is the most loving gift you could give her. She may be too preoccupied to see it now, but I believe someday she will understand and appreciate it."

 _Someday_ , John thought, _when she is married and committed to another._

He watched a seagull settle on the surface of the ocean, accepting the power and motion of the waves as easily as if it were sitting in its nest.

"Will you stay?" Thor asked abruptly.

"What?"

"Will you stay in Four?"

John almost smiled. _Trust Thor to go straight to the heart of the matter_. It was the same thing he'd been asking himself all afternoon.

The seagull dipped its head into the water, its white tail momentarily pointing straight up to the sky, and then returned to the surface with a small fish in its mouth. It swallowed the fish in one gulp. _Life goes on_ , John thought.

"Yes," he replied simply. "I am going stay, at least for now. The war is not over, and there is a lot of work to be done in Four. She'll need all the help she can get."

Thor grinned and shook his head. "You have it _bad_."

"I'm well aware of that, Thor."

"Well, you should at least suffer on a full stomach. I am dining with the Lady Sif this evening, and I think you must join us."

John waved one hand. "I wouldn't want to interfere-"

"Oh, there's no interference," Thor interrupted easily. "Sif is like a sister to me. We've known each other since we were children." A gleam came into his eye. "She often asks about _you_ , though."

John shook his head. "No matchmaking, Thor. Please."

Thor gave him a considering look and then nodded. "Aye. I see it is too soon for that. Perhaps in two or three weeks…"

John groaned but allowed Thor to lead him away from the beach.

John went to speak with Diana the following morning.

He found her outdoors, not far from her home, surveying the status of the repairs. She was wearing one of the suits SHIELD had provided them, a utilitarian slacks and shirt combo that she somehow managed to make look feminine, her legs a mile long in the snug, knit pants. He didn't think the choice was accidental. The suit was neutral — neither Amazonian, Asgardian, nor Atlantean — and Di was always attuned to symbols. He noticed that she was wearing a necklace, the first time he had seen her with jewelry. It was a simple silver chain with a few aquamarine stones that brought out the blue in her eyes. He thought it suited her.

She tucked her hand in his elbow and tugged to get him to walk beside her. "Kaldur gave you our news," she said without preamble.

 _Our news_ , John thought. _That sounds very…couple-ish._ The heavy weight he'd felt when Kaldur had spoken with him yesterday settled back on his chest.

"Yes," he replied tersely.

She heard the tension in his voice and stopped walking. A faint pink flush tinted her cheeks. "I am sorry," she said slowly. "I thought after all that has befallen us since the Games and your death, with Tahiti, and your new life…" Her voice trailed off, and she cleared her throat. She was more matter-of-fact as she continued, "I thought your feelings toward me may have altered."

 _Seriously?_ He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Kaldur and Thor could see it. And I think you could see it too, Di, if you had allowed yourself._

He shook his head. "They haven't."

"I am sorry, John," she repeated. She studied his face for a moment, then disengaged her arm from his and resumed walking. He hurried after her.

"My feelings aren't the important thing here, though," he continued as he caught up to her. "What's important is how _you_ feel. You are making a lifetime commitment. If it makes you happy, Di, I will learn to live with it." _And at some point, I may even be happy for you_.

She stopped again. "But of course I am pleased," she replied, as if she was speaking to a child. "Our union will connect _all_ the peoples of Four. With peace and cooperation, the entire district will prosper." She smiled brightly.

And for the first time since he'd heard the news, John felt a spark of anger. It was the same line he'd gotten from everyone: Kaldur, Thor, and now Di. _It's a good thing for Four_. _Our people will prosper._ He gritted his teeth. Couldn't they recognize that they had a duty to themselves as well as to their district?

He tried to keep his voice even. "I understand what this means for Four, Di. But what does it mean for _you_? Does the thought of spending the rest of your life with Kaldur make you happy?"

She maintained her smile. "I believe we will make a good couple. There was a time — when we were selected for the Games — that I thought him stubborn and arrogant. I believe he thought me the same." She shook her head. "Now that we have taken up arms together, I have come to respect and admire him."

John frowned. He was not an expert in matters of heart, but he was certain that _respect_ and _admire_ were not the same as _love_. _Respect_ and _admire_ were clean, level-headed emotions. If they were a color, he thought, they'd be a cool, clear blue, like the sky over his head. _Love_ was something else entirely. Love was warm, the color of a sunset; it muddied your thoughts and pushed everything else to the side. There was nothing level-headed about it. He knew this, because it was what he felt every time he looked at her.

He shook his head. "That's not what I'm asking. Can you once — just bloody _once_ , Di — not think about your duty and think about yourself? You're going to sleep beside this man and wake up next to him for the rest of your life. You're going to… to… forsake all others until the day you die. You should be ridiculously happy about _that_ … not about what it means for Four."

Her cheeks flushed again, and this time, they were a ruddy red and not a delicate pink. She set her jaw, and he saw the steel in her eyes. He knew that look well. It meant he had pushed things too far, and she was gearing up for battle.

"Do you remember what you told me in the Games?" she asked sharply. "You were recounting stories of your sister, and how she reprimanded you for the expectation that life be fair. I believe you said her expression was: 'Fair is a child's word'?"

He nodded.

"The same can for said for _happiness_ , John," she continued. "It is almost as childish as _fair_. I am the daughter of a queen and the All-Father. I do not have the luxury of placing my happiness above others'. My people must come first."

He shook his head but said nothing. No words he could come up with, he realized, would make a difference. His anger dissipated, replaced by an overwhelming heaviness and fatigue.

Di's flush faded. "And lest you worry too greatly about me, John," she said, more gently, "I believe that I _will_ find happiness — in part by knowing that I have served my people well."

It was not the answer he wanted, but it was the only answer he was going to get. He stepped closer and took her hand in his. "I hope that's true," he said quietly, "because you deserve happiness. Everyone does."

He kissed her cool cheek and walked away.


	55. Chapter 55: Itsy Bitsy

**(A/N): Happy Friday! This time, let's check in with tvfan69's Jade Nguyen!**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed and supported each other, and thanks to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your beautiful review. We agree: John has a really crummy situation in front of him, and we love our characters so much that it's so HARD to watch any of them hurt! :(**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty-Five - Itsy Bitsy**

 **Jade Nguyen, formerly of District Ten**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by tvfan69**

* * *

 _"When you think the final nail is in, think again."_

 _Katy Perry_ — _Rise_

* * *

Things around Howlett Estate were… odd. Jade could admit that much.

On her first morning there, it dawned on her, rather abruptly, that up until that moment, she had literally never once been in an environment in which there was no imminent threat looming over her head. Ever. It was ridiculous to come to that realization with a revolution in full swing all throughout Marvel that was resulting in mass chaos and panic; one would think that would be the ultimate threat to ever hang over her head. But the revolution hadn't touched here yet, not directly anyway, and with no clarity on exactly what she was to SHIELD… well, she didn't have much of a choice other than to live in the moment.

And that moment was oddly domestic.

She slept in that morning, though she was sure most people would argue 8:30 was a far cry from sleeping in. Regardless, she was the last one awake, and by the time she'd gotten into the kitchen, her four closest housemates were already seated in the dining room with breakfast.

The four of them were another odd thing.

Artemis, Thea, Garfield, and Raven. All of them were only three years younger than she was, and yet, somehow, she had found that she felt responsible for them. Whether she was reminding Gar of his manners, Raven and Thea of going to bed at a decent hour, or Artemis of keeping her bow unloaded when she was inside the house (though that was mostly to warn her before the extensive staff that worked there could get after her), she couldn't deny that she had somehow adopted all four of the younger teens.

Which meant she was a little more worried than she would like to admit when they started going off on missions.

First, it was Gar and Raven. The two of them were sent orders to go off on a mission with the rest of their little gang from the Games, an assignment that had Gar all but running around the mansion in excitement. She'd seen the two of them off and made sure to warn them that they had better each come back in one piece; otherwise, she was going to kill them. She gave Thea the same warning when she went off with a gang of other former tributes and victors too.

For the past few days, Jade had been sure to keep to just herself and Artemis. The place had been bustling with activity: the gaggle of orphans, the Howlett Estate's staff, the droves of SHIELD agents that she had spotted coming and going into one meeting after another, and Alfred, an older man with a few healing injuries. She still wasn't entirely sure as to who he was; he was almost always either in the kitchen or cleaning something — or in the kitchen cleaning something — and he always would end up being scolded by one of the members of the Howlett Estate's staff for his efforts. She probably could ask him what his story was — he seemed open enough — but she didn't feel like it was her place, so she decided to just stick to helping him cook when Mrs. O'Malley wasn't preparing some big meal for all the operatives.

"What do you think, Miss Nguyen: chives or no chives?" Alfred asked her, holding up a fistful of green bristles that looked a little like grass to Jade.

"I think you're forgetting I don't know what a chive is," she deadpanned, continuing to move the potato masher around in the bowl he'd set in front of her. Alfred made a noise of disappointment and then muttered something about how civility wasn't supposed to be illegal in the other districts before he picked up a knife and a cutting board.

He started cutting his grass — or _chives,_ apparently — and only a few moments later, they heard the sound of a heavy door opening and closing. Jade looked up at Alfred, who appeared to consider the noise for moment before he returned to his chopping. He had to know what was coming; she could hear the click-clack of her footsteps coming down the hall, though they were strangely followed by heavier, more thudding steps.

"Right this way," she could hear Mrs. Hopkins saying tersely as she travelled down the corridor, "I think I saw—" She cut herself off with a little gasp. "Mr. Pennyworth!" Mrs. Hopkins half shouted half whispered, and out of genuine fear, Jade glanced around to make sure there weren't any other knives, spatulas, or especially wooden spoons loose around the countertop. "How many times must I remind you? You are a _guest_ , here. Not an employee, Mr. Pennyworth."

"I would never step on Mrs. O'Malley's toes like that, Mrs. Hopkins," Alfred replied primly, "I am simply trying to impart some basic culinary skills on our — _your_ — young guests. Miss Nguyen, for example, should be able to adequately feed herself like a _civilized_ human being when this was has met its end."

It was painfully obvious that Mrs. Hopkins was none too amused with the defense. As she opened her mouth to say something, Mrs. O'Malley — from across the kitchen — intervened on their behalf. "Excuse me, ma'am," Mrs. O'Malley said gently, but with all the same professionalism that Jade had come to expect from the staff, "if you'd like to place the blame, I told Mr. Pennyworth that he was welcome to teach the young miss. I was afraid he might be going a bit south, seein' as he isn't _used_ to not takin' care of his charges, ma'am. It wasn't that long ago that we were caring for this place with no one in it but ourselves, after all."

took a moment to consider it before she turned to Alfred. "I trust you'll find your way _back_ to your room when you've finished here, Mr. Pennyworth?"

"Of course, madam," Alfred said with a coy little smirk. "I wouldn't dare upset the delicate balance of your home."

"Certainly not," Mrs. Hopkins said, readjusting her aprons and biting back a smirk of her own before, with a huff, she dismissed the issue, put her more professional expression back on, and stepped aside to make way for two newcomers. "Mr. Pennyworth, I'm sure you remember Mr. Summers and Miss Gordon," Mrs. Hopkins said almost cheerfully. "It appears as if they've been given an assignment from Master James and would like a moment with Miss Nguyen."

Both Mrs. Hopkins and the two guests were focused primarily on Jade, even though Miss Gordon gave Alfred a friendly wave, even as the staff and Alfred excused themselves so that they weren't intruding on the discussion. The two teenagers were obviously dressed like SHIELD agents, though they were both too young for that designation.

Summers looked more uptight than Gordon, his posture ridged, like he wanted to be anywhere but there when there was work to be done, his smile obviously forced. Gordon, while she didn't look particularly thrilled, was at least better at faking it.

"Hi," Gordon said. "You must be Jade." She only waited for the nod Jade gave in response. "I'm Barbara, and this is Scott. We're on our way to District Eight, where there have been some reports about some rebels going missing. There's been a lot of Hydra activity in the area, and if they weren't killed, then they could be in serious trouble. Scott and I volunteered for a rescue mission, but the director recommended we talk to you to see if you were up for a mission, give you a chance to get your feet wet on the right side of the fight."

Jade wasn't proud that it took her a minute to understand what she was being asked, but once it did click she, instead of answering, she turned calmly away from Barbara and found a nice spot on the furthest piece of vacant countertop to slowly place her bowl. It was a pathetic means of avoidance — she knew that — but she needed five seconds to think. Logically, she had known that SHIELD would likely send her off on some kind of assignment sooner or later; she just never thought it would be offered to her as though she had the option to say no.

She wouldn't, but it still felt strange to know that she could.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't even get the chance to answer, because before she could turn back around, a new voice was jumping on the opportunity.

"I'll go!"

Jade whirled around. She hadn't even heard Artemis come in, though she knew Artemis had known she was in the kitchen; she must have come looking. "No," she snapped before Barbara or Scott could say anything one way or the other. "I'll go," she added in a tone that was much more even. "But she is staying here."

"I'm going," Artemis argued; a glare in her eyes that Jade could match with ire to spare.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No. You're. Not."

"Yes. I. Am."

"N-"

"Okay," Barbara interrupted, taking a step forward as though to place herself between them, like that was going to help the situation any. "You're Artemis?" Barbara asked as she turned toward Artemis, who nodded. Barbara's expression softened, and an uneasy pit settled in Jade's stomach, as she couldn't predict what Barbara's next move would be. "Scott and I will take all the help we can get, but we're trying to bring families back together, not split them apart. I would rather you only come if it's okay with your sister."

 _Oh, screw you too Barbara,_ Jade thought to herself. "We need a minute," Jade said before she left the kitchen, with Artemis trailing behind her.

"I'm going," Artemis insisted.

If Jade had to hear that sentence one more time, she was going to pick Artemis up and throw her out of the highest window she could find in this place.

"No, you're not." The reply was becoming robotic, and marching into her room, she could only hope that she could slam the door fast enough and loud enough that her sister wouldn't be able to follow.

"Yes, I am."

"No, you are not!" Jade seethed, spinning on her heel so fast she had to brace one hand against the doorway for balance, her voice high and raspy with frustration. "No you're _not_ , no you're _not_ , no — you are _not_! If I have to tell you that one more time Artemis, I swear I'll—"

"You'll what?!" Artemis all but screamed. "You'll send me to my _room_? You're not Mom!"

"Oh, and om would let you go?" Jade challenged as she crossed her arms over her chest with the demand. "Mom would be perfectly fine with you running off with secret agents to get yourself killed?"

" _You're_ going."

"That's different," Jade spat out with a tone of cold finality, "I, _unwillingly_ , have been trained to handle this sort of insanity. You haven't." With that Jade, turned her back to her sister, a part of her almost believing that Artemis would finally give it up.

However, stubbornness was a family trait that ran much deeper than Jade would have liked.

"I've been trained too," Artemis argued.

Jade was glad she had her back to her sister, because she had no desire for Artemis to see the pain on her face when she closed her eyes. "Don't remind me," she said, turning around to face Artemis, who had gone from looking furious as all hell to angry and desperate. She had to think for a moment, to try and figure out a way to explain her motives without upsetting Artemis any more. "Look, we have both been through a lot lately—"

"You can say that again," Artemis scoffed, and Jade frowned.

She was right. They'd both been through a lot; neither of them could just sit back and watch the revolution unfold around them.

"Fine," she conceded. "You can go, but you stay close to me and you do exactly as you're told. Got it?"

Artemis nodded with a very bright and excited smile. "Got it!"

* * *

Jade thought they were going to ship out first thing the next morning, but it wasn't until after they'd gotten the latest intel and picked up their director-approved SHIELD agent that the group found themselves bidding goodbye to the staff members that had taken it upon themselves to see the various groups of kids off. Scott swore up and down to Mrs. Hopkins and Alfred that they would soon be returned with no harm done, even as the gruff housekeeper couldn't help but fuss over him before he left.

The flight to Eight only took a few hours, but it gave them time to run through the plan. According to the intel that got them this far, Norman Osborn, one of Eight's former victors, was trying to take control of his home district in the midst of all the chaos the revolution had brought. SHIELD had discovered that he had been kidnapping rebel fighters and experimenting on them, but the intel didn't say what exactly Osborn was trying to achieve through those experiments, though it appeared as though he was hoping to augment the men into something … more. It didn't sound like he cared about their lives beyond a means to his own end.

By the end of the flight, all that was left to do was to check their weapons. Artemis had her bow beside her; her quiver was loaded with all kinds of trick arrows in addition to a healthy supply of conventional ones and secured snugly onto her back. She also had a much smaller crossbow, just in case, with just as many bolts to go with it. Jade only hoped that Artemis wouldn't need to use any lethal force on this mission.

Jade's weapons were a little smaller — but every bit as deadly. The SHIELD uniform she had been given wasn't all that different from her Hydra jumpsuit, aside from the insignia on the shoulders. It had a holster on one calf for a tanto, along with an additional belt that allowed her to secure both her precious sais. She also had an impressive amount of kunai tucked into various pockets throughout her outfit.

The transport brought them to a building not too far from the center of the district, a tall tower that really needed nothing more than a flash of lightning across the sky behind it to complete its ominous look. They snuck around the back, where a man in Sentinel armor was waiting for them.

"You must be Sentinel Stacey," Scott said in a reasonably friendly tone as they filed out and into the open door. "I didn't realize we had good Sentinels in Eight, too. So … thank you."

The Sentinel— or former Sentinel now — nodded while he closed the door and shut them all in. "Just get in and out fast — and make sure you get all the kids out with you."

"Believe me, sir; that's our intention," Scott replied. "Our SHIELD agent chaperone is waiting nearby and ready to give cover if required. We'll get everyone out."

Well, that was certainly a conversation on its own, but it was one Jade could stick her nose into later. For now, she had a job to worry about, and she made a point to look like she was minding her own business as she attended to her weapons.

The little group moved through a network of back hallways; according to the intel they'd gotten, getting into the lab was going to be the easy part of this mission, but getting out with the captives would be a whole other story.

When they arrived in the lab, Jade could see why.

It actually wasn't the lab, not the main part of it, anyway. No, this was a large back room that was probably used to keep test animals or, as far as Jade knew, maybe even mutt creations, once upon a time. But now, the cages that lined the walls were empty and rusted

Barbara swore under her breath, a perfect summary of the situation.

Scott's expression was solemn as the four of them crept into the room, his jaw tight as they looked past the bars into the empty pits of blackness. The whole place smelled like a hospital.

"They have to be here," Scott muttered, mostly to himself, and while she may have only been dragged into this yesterday, Jade felt her heart settling heavy in her chest when she saw a discarded teddy bear inside one of the empty cages. These cages… the equipment… they'd been used on humans, and there was no telling what happened to them.

"Hello?"

The inquisitive whisper came from the very end of the room and had Scott and Barbara racing until they dropped to their knees in front of the final cage.

"Oh my God!" Barbara exclaimed and if Jade didn't know better, she might even say she heard tears in her voice.

"Don't worry; we're getting you out of here," Scott said as he started to work on a way to do just that.

"Is there anyone else here?" Barbara asked the young man in the cage, already turning her head as though another voice was going to call out.

"No," Jade heard him say as she and Artemis drew closer. "Not anymore. It's just us. The others… They're all gone."

That hurt, but at least this wasn't a total waste. Still, Jade had to wonder who "us" was. The cage wasn't all that big, originally meant to hold maybe a large dog in good conditions. But all the other cells were occupied, so whoever else was left had to be crammed in there with this battered young man.

"Alright," Scott was saying as he began looking around the lab. "Don't worry; we're getting you out. Why don't you tell me your name. I'm Scott?"

"Ah, Bobby," the young man said, leaning to the side to watch Scott as he searched for a key. "Bobby Drake."

Artemis turned to look at the lock in question, which was old-fashioned and clearly opened only by a manual key, which was very unlikely to be lying around in the open in here.

"I've got it," Artemis announced as she fitted a bolt into her crossbow. Everyone, Jade included, jumped back without argument, though Bobby was protesting and pressed against the back of the cage with his curled-up cellmate — with nowhere to go should she miss.

But the bolt hit its target — the lock — and let loose a small explosion that sent the annoying piece of metal broken and clattering to the ground.

"You couldn't have used a _quieter_ arrow?" Jade commented, but Artemis only smirked at her.

Scott and Barbara leaned into the cage to help the young man out of it, they had to pull him to his feet. Once he was up, Scott hadn't taken a hand off of him, which Bobby clearly needed. Jade couldn't see many of his features in the low lighting; from what she could see, he looked to be about Scott's age, maybe a little younger, but not by much. He was skinny — too skinny — and blond, but most importantly, he was leaning heavily on Scott's shoulder with his right foot hovering over the ground. He had a black eye and more scrapes and bruises on his arms than any person should… yet he was still trying to smile through it all.

"Hey," Bobby said with a winning grin. "Fancy meeting you guys here."

Jade gave him a nod, unsure of how else to respond to him. Barbara was back in the cage, pulling out the other rebel, and Artemis had crowded behind her just before she let out a gasp.

Jade watched as her sister took a shaky step back while Barbara hauled the last prisoner out. She couldn't understand Artemis's reaction — this guy didn't look like he was in any worse shape than Bobby; he wasn't even standing straight up yet. He was just a curled up, pale, bloody, mess of—

 _Oh, that's why._

He wasn't just any rebel turned lab rat. This was someone neither of them thought they would ever see alive again. This was Roy "Red" Harper. He wasn't standing straight up but was leaning heavily on Barbara, with his right arm around her shoulders. He looked just as beat up as Bobby, with the notably huge exception that, unlike Bobby, he was missing the majority of his left arm.

"Jade," Roy said in a breath, clearly more in shock than was usual for a simple greeting.

Before she knew it, Jade had lunged forward to wrap her arms around his neck. He let out a slight " _oof_ " when she hugged him, curling over as best he could at the awkward angle; it was entirely likely that he had broken ribs. She backed off right away, and suddenly, she was aware that she had no idea where to go from here. She couldn't hit him, not with his arm horribly amputated and especially not with Scott and Barbara standing right here. But she couldn't do anything else. She couldn't—

"Ok…" Scott said slowly, a little confused at her reaction to the newcomer. "We've got to move before—"

The sound of gunfire from nearby finished that statement for him.

Artemis rushed ahead, Scott rushing up on her heels and dragging Bobby as he hissed at her to wait. Jade looked back at Red. She wanted to help him, but Barbara had him all set. A trade off would only cause a time delay, so she ran after the other two and trusted Barbara to follow.

They managed to get further than Jade would've expected before they ran into their first guard, who just barely took the time to call to his friends before he started shooting.

While Jade didn't want to admit that she was grateful she had caved and let Artemis come, she couldn't deny that they'd be dead if she hadn't. Even with Scott and Barbara both firing with deadly accuracy with SHIELD-issue guns — and with Barbara throwing in a few martial arts moves that her Head Sentinel father had probably taught her — they were barely able to push through, and Artemis firing arrows left and right certainly helped clear the path.

She took out a guard with her sais and two more with her kunai, and Artemis shot a guard between them and freedom in the shoulder, sending him spinning into a deadlier shot by Scott...

Okay, so she owed Artemis one.

They were almost free, could quite literally see the light at the end of the tunnel — and then they noticed that the door was propped open by something.

 _Wait… what?_

They were already at the door; there wasn't time to question the wrongness of it being open… until they saw what was propping it: Sentinel Stacey, badly bleeding, though he had a grip on his weapons still and was keeping Osborn's guards from getting to the team or their ride.

"Get out of here," he told them through his teeth.

Scott gasped as they skidded to a halt, but only for a second before Barbara grabbed his arm, her own eyes wide. But when Stacey's eyes unfocused and he slipped sideways, they knew they couldn't save him.

"Come on," Barbara said, and Scott finally nodded, straightened up, and quickly lead the way to the transport.


	56. Chapter 56: Overdue Mission

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! As the title says, this chapter is far overdue, so without any further ado...**

 **Thanks as always to our amazing writers, and thanks to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being our favorite cheerleader in all the land!**

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 **Chapter Fifty-Six- Overdue Mission**

 **Kara Danvers, Formerly of District Five**

 **District Five**

 **Written By Ophelia Claire**

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" _Great things are done by a series of small things brought together."_ -Vincent Van Gogh

* * *

Okay. _Maybe_ going rogue for a bonus mission with no backup hadn't been Kara's _best_ idea of the year. But the heartbreak on Steve's face upon seeing Bucky had hit too close to home. After all, she'd just saved Clark from the same situation, and if she knew that they could help Bucky, how could she just walk away from that?

Kara and Steve huddled in the woods for a few minutes after they'd blown the factory. The moon was high and thin, a pale crescent visible in flashes through the trees. A gentle wind pushed its way around them every so often, bringing the smell of the grassy fields with it. It was a familiar smell — and strangely comforting to Kara. She hadn't realized how homesick she was, and now here she was, probably less than two miles from her house.

Steve had pulled off his mask, and Kara could see his eyes shining gently in the starlight that made its way down to the forest floor. She pulled off her mask as well, her hair mussed in the ponytail she'd thrown it into. She laid a hand on Steve's arm.

"You saw him run outside, Steve," she said. "He wasn't inside when we blew the place. He's still out there, and all we have to do is find him."

"He could have gone anywhere," Steve said. "He just took off… What if he's just running?"

Kara sat up and moved in front of Steve to look him in the eye. "Hey," she said sharply. "Snap out of it." Steve jerked slightly at her words. "We're gonna do this. Let's think about this logically, okay?" She sat back on her heels. "The way he took off, it wasn't like he was running away from you. It was more like he was being recalled somewhere."

Steve nodded. "Like someone wanted him at their side. Someone… maybe someone who was heading up this operation here. They had to have someone in charge, right? Not someone like Viper, definitely, but one of her little lap dogs. Someone with a modicum of power, who could keep a hold over a quieter district like this."

"Exactly," Kara agreed. "The citizens of Five have been oppressed, but they have to know _where_ that someone would be holed up, right? And Logan said we could check on our families if we had time. Why don't we make time right now and gather a little intel? It's dark, HYDRA has been scattered — it's the perfect time to sneak around to our houses."

Steve nodded. "Okay," he agreed. "Let's do it."

The pair of them pulled their masks back over their faces and hiked along the edge of the woods. Each step ramped up the anticipation and worry in Kara's gut. What would she find at her home? What if Jeremiah or Eliza had stood in defiance of HYDRA? What if she'd been discovered at some point and they were being tortured in some faraway dungeon because of it?

A little voice pushed through the panic. _Jeremiah and Eliza are smart. They wouldn't put themselves or anyone else at risk. Anything they would do, they'd do quietly and subtly. They'll be lying low until this all blows over._

The main area of town grew before them. Where lights might normally be twinkling in a few windows late at night, there was just darkness. Houses were dark; streetlights were off. The air was incredibly still, like the night itself was holding its breath, with not even a breeze anymore.

"My house is down that street," Kara murmured, pointing. "Should we… can we go there first?"

"If it's right there, I don't see why not," Steve agreed, following her down the street.

The road felt like it grew longer as they walked. Kara was so close to her house, to her family, that it _hurt_. The panic started to well up again, but she forced it back down and picked up her pace.

No lights were on inside the Danvers home, but she climbed the steps and knocked on the front door. She winced as the sound echoed on the quiet street.

They waited in silence for almost a minute before the sound of quiet footsteps approached the door and the door swung open a few inches. The tired face of Jeremiah Danvers peered out from the dark interior. He looked Kara and Steve up and down with suspicion but didn't close the door in their faces. His gaze lingered on the eagle crest on their shoulders, the matte leather almost invisible in the dark.

"Can I help you?" he asked eventually, and Kara was _so_ close to just ripping off her mask there and then and throwing herself into Jeremiah's arms. No one was out on the street. It was dark. She could be inside before anyone saw—

No.

 _No, Kara,_ she told herself. _The mission comes first._

Kara realized Jeremiah was still waiting for an answer. Fortunately, Steve stepped forward and smoothly filled the silence. "Good evening, sir. We're very sorry to bother you this late, but we're with SHIELD. You may have heard the commotion over at one of the factories earlier this evening—"

"That was you?" Jeremiah asked. A half-smile formed on his face. "Good riddance to those brutes that have been giving us hell for weeks."

"We're not done yet. We think they probably have a leader somewhere in the district. Hydra usually sends a lackey to run things when they don't want to waste their heavy hitters. Any idea who that might be or where we might find them?"

Jeremiah thought for a few moments. "Yeah… now that you mention it, someone did set up shop in one of the houses in Victor's Village around the time that Hydra started cracking down. Don't see her much, but when she does come out, she always has a guard. Younger guy. Always wears some kind of mask. Sometimes it's Hydra gear; sometimes it's a different uniform. His face is always covered, but he's got dark hair down to here." Jeremiah waved a hand over his shoulder.

Steve twitched but recovered quickly. Kara remembered that Bucky's hair had hung right above his shoulders in the factory.

"Thank you," she said, dropping the pitch of her voice slightly, grateful that it was also muffled by the mask. "We're doing our best to get Hydra out of here and everywhere else. Gone permanently, if we can."

Jeremiah looked over at her.

Something changed — ever so slightly — in his eyes. "Thank you," he said after just a fraction of hesitation. "I'm waiting for the day that my daughters can come home."

Kara's breath caught in her chest. "We — we're doing our best to end this war, sir. I hope that your family is reunited soon."

Jeremiah smiled. He started to close the door. "I get the feeling it'll be sooner than we think." Then, he shut the door. The locks clicked, and Steve and Kara were left alone on the steps.

"He _knew_ ," Kara hissed. "I don't know how, but he _did_." She stumbled down the front steps and back onto the sidewalk. Steve hurried after.

"Are you sure? I mean, he seemed optimistic that this would be over soon—"

"He said _daughters_ , Steve. Plural. Alex _and me._ He knew it was me. He knows I'm alive. He knows I didn't die in all this fighting." Kara pressed her hands to her face over the mask, half giddy, half filled with fear. "They must have been so worried, but that puts them in so much danger…"

"They're going to be fine," Steve reassured her. "Unless Hydra has a psychic on their side, it's not like there's any way they'll know. And if we can take care of their leader, whoever she is, then we can wipe them out of the district and it won't matter anyways."

Kara took ten seconds to breathe and slow her racing heart. "Okay. Okay, you're right. Let's get to Victor's Village."

They jogged the ten blocks to the circle of large houses at the edge of town. Most of them were dark, and the gardens were overgrown. Several had broken windows where desperate Five citizens had entered to try and take some of the luxury possessions inside. One of them was different, though. A path had been hacked through the overgrowth to the front door, and the broken windows had been boarded up.

"That's the one," Steve whispered. Kara nodded. The two of them crept up the path and through the tangled plants to the front of the house. They maneuvered to the side and around the corner to one of the large windows and peered between the wooden slats nailed over the glass. A faint light glowed in a far room, and the occasional flicker of movement was barely visible.

"Let's pincer her," Kara suggested. "You wait at the back door, and I'll go in through the front and flush her your way."

Steve nodded and slipped off around the side of the house. Kara waited until she heard " _I'm in position,"_ over her comms. Then, she braced her shield on her arm and bashed the front door open.

Maybe it was good she hadn't won the Games and moved in here, because despite the splendor of the houses, the doors were weak. Kara crashed through the front door and barrelled into the front room, half falling over before she righted herself and sprinted for the back room where she'd seen the light. She was grateful for the night vision setting in her goggles, painting the room in a lurid green and highlighting all the furniture threatening to trip her. She heard frantic movement further back in the house — other people running — and she reached out and pulled a lamp over as she passed, adding more noise to the chaos.

A door slammed. Hopefully, Steve had been ready and waiting. Kara headed for the back, ready to join the fray. She dodged around a sofa and slammed open the back door, bursting back out into the night. Steve was already locked in combat with a soldier — the same long-haired one as before. _Bucky_.

Another figure was running for the tall fence that surrounded the backyard. A woman with long, loose hair was all Kara could make out, but it was enough to go on.

"Get her!" Steve yelled as he blocked a roundhouse kick aimed at his spine. Kara didn't even break her stride as she practically flew past the grappling men and after the woman.

The woman was fast, but Kara was faster. The only question was if the woman would reach the fence before Kara could catch her.

 _The answer will be no, thank you very much._ Kara put on a burst of speed and _jumped_ as she neared the woman, crashing into her and tackling her to the ground.

The woman groaned in pain as Kara crashed down on top of her. "Let me guess," she gasped. "SHIELD's finally come a-calling?"

"You're under arrest... um…" Kara's speech died down as she realized she didn't even know the woman's name.

"Oh, dear, they only told you the bare essentials, hmm? Some things never change." The woman laughed, despite being pinned under Kara. "You can call me Queen Bee." Kara felt a buzz at the woman's hip and several _somethings_ darted from the woman's pocket and swarmed past Kara's head, buzzing furiously.

Kara jerked away from the buzzing instinctively, and Queen Bee took the opportunity to wrench her arms loose and push upward, throwing Kara off and into the grass. She took off running for the fence again. Kara batted at the buzzing things — _tracker jackers!_ her mind screamed, though she knew they probably weren't — and scrambled to her feet.

But the fence was at least eight or nine feet tall, and Bee didn't seem the type to be able to scale a fence, even with a running start. She didn't slow, though.

Without warning, the insects swarming around Kara darted away. Kara switched on her night vision filter in time to see them gather under Queen Bee's arms and feet, lifting her straight up and over the fence. Queen Bee turned and gave Kara a little wave as she disappeared over the fence. Kara looked around frantically for the gate, but it was all the way at the other end of the yard near the house. Steve was running toward her, Bucky prone on the ground where they'd been fighting.

"I need a boost!" Kara yelled as Steve approached. She glanced around and jumped up on a small stone bench, pivoting and jumping higher just as Steve reached her. And _thank god_ he understood her request, his shield braced in front of him with the domed side facing upward. Kara's feet landed squarely on the shield, and he thrust upward as she jumped for a third time, launching her easily into the air.

Time seemed to slow slightly as Kara soared over the fence. It passed below her as she rotated in the air, arcing gracefully over the wood slats and down towards the ground on the other side. She tucked her body into a ball as she dropped and rolled when she hit the ground, somersaulting right onto her feet and into a sprint and letting out a whoop of exhilaration.

Queen Bee was heading through the field towards the woods that bordered the district. Kara swung her shield in front of her and bore down on Queen Bee.

"Give it up, Bee!" she called as she approached. Queen Bee was clearly tiring, while Kara had never felt better. _Nothing like a new body to give you that extra spring in your step._

Queen Bee looked back, which was her mistake. She stumbled, and Kara took the opportunity to close the gap and ram her shield into Queen Bee's arm, sending her sprawling and rolling across the ground.

The woman was looking rough. This was her second tumble in as many minutes, and she had several cuts across her arms and chest, as well as a nasty-looking gash near her hairline that was matting down the surrounding hair with blood.

"You think you can stop me," Queen Bee panted. It wasn't phrased as a question, oddly enough.

"Well, I could just sit on you again," Kara offered. "Pin those bugs in your pocket."

Queen Bee smiled. "You assume that's where they are."

Kara stiffened as a buzzing noise grew louder behind her before she was enveloped in a swarm once more. Even though her face was covered by the mask, she shielded her face with her arms and staggered backwards as her senses were assaulted by the bees.

"Nice try," Queen Bee said as she picked herself up off the ground. "You may have gotten my little soldier, but it takes more than that to take out the queen." She strode off into the night, leaving Kara on her knees in a swarm of bugs. They'd begun stinging now, painful punctures on her arms and legs. Kara curled into a ball, doing her best to protect her face and neck.

It seemed like forever, but it was probably only a minute before, as if on some signal, the bees halted their attack and zoomed off into the night.

 _Off to protect their mistress, no doubt._

Kara climbed to her feet, wincing at the pain in her arms and legs. She scanned the garden and was rewarded with the sight of Steve making his way towards her, a shape thrown over his shoulders.

"She got away," Kara muttered.

"But we got Bucky back,' Steve said softly. "One victory at a time. That's all we need."

"Speaking of getting back…" Kara said. "I didn't exactly think about it when I told the team to go home. Hopefully they'll be willing to come pick us up."

"I got a girl who'd probably be willing to fly a plane for us," Steve said. "But before we call for a ride, there's someone else I need to talk to."

It took a few tries, but Steve managed to get his comlink patched through to someone named Ororo — a younger girl Kara had heard of but not yet met. She seemed to be absolutely _delighted_ to be talking to Steve, if the screams audible through the earpiece were anything to go by, or the way Steve kept getting interrupted.

Steve told Ororo about their encounter with Queen Bee and managed to get coordinates through before his connection was lost.

He sighed gently. "She's the best. If Bucky was the brother I never had, then Ororo's the sister. Now…" He fiddled with his comms again. "About that ride."

Steve's ride turned out to be Peggy, who not only picked them up but managed to berate them the whole flight home. At the very end of the journey, her expression turned soft.

"I really am glad you've got Bucky back," she said. "Charles will be able to help him; I'm sure of it."

Steve glanced over at Bucky, still unconscious in the seat next to him.

"I hope so," he said.

* * *

Kara received another scolding from Alex upon their arrival, which was strange because Alex was simultaneously looking over the stings on Kara's arms and legs and treating the worse ones gently.

"To be quite honest, though, I would've done the same," Alex said after she'd presumably expended all her scolding energy. "Especially if I'd had someone like Clark who'd been through that."

"Alex…" Kara hesitated. "We went to check in on Eliza and Jeremiah. I know we were supposed to keep a low profile, and we did!" she promised hastily. "We kept our masks on and changed our voices. But I think… I think somehow Jeremiah recognized me."

Alex straightened. "He did? Did you do anything?"

"No. I pretended like I didn't know. But I could swear he did."

Kara rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm going to go and visit Clark," she said. "Charles said he's up and can talk with people." She hopped off the kitchen stool and wandered to the area of the mansion that had been converted into the med bay. Clark's room was nearby, not in it but close in case there was an emergency.

She knocked hesitantly. A soft female voice called out; "Come in!" Kara turned the knob and pushed the door open slowly. Clark was sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. Charles was in his wheelchair nearby, and perched on the arm of Clark's chair was a dark-haired young woman with a pleasant smile on her face. She looked vaguely familiar, but Kara couldn't quite place her.

"Kara!" The relief and happiness was evident in Clark's voice as he rose from the chair and rushed across the room, enveloping her in a hug. Kara let out an " _oof_ " as he crashed into her, but returned the hug.

"I… I'm sorry," Clark said. "For so many things. Mostly for touching that damn flower. I shoulda remembered."

Kara placed a hand on his shoulder. "You don't need to apologize." Then, she slugged him gently. "I mean, yeah, you should've, but I don't blame you." She gave him a one-armed side hug and looked toward the young woman. "Hi, I don't think we've met?" She let go of Clark and moved toward the woman, holding out her hand. "Kara Danvers."

The woman took her hand. "Lois Lane. It's wonderful to meet you; I've heard a lot about you from Clark."

"Clark's recovery has been going extremely well as of late," Charles said from his chair, smirking as he watched the reunion. "I thought it might be nice to have another friendly face around to help your cousin and mentioned to the right people who we needed here."

"I'm glad to hear things are going well," Kara said. "Because we have another case for you."

"Yes, I've already heard about Steve's friend," Charles said. "I feel confident we should be able to help him just as we've helped Clark over these past weeks."

Kara smiled. Maybe, just maybe, things were starting to swing in their favor.


	57. Chapter 57: Finding Purpose

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We need to check in on John again, because he's a sweetie, and he deserves love and happiness, right? Right.**

 **Thank you to all the writers who reviewed for your continuing positivity and love. We wouldn't be anywhere without you! Thanks also to TheRaspberryVigilante41 for being the BEST and for noticing our awesome titling skills :P**

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 **Chapter Fifty-Seven - Finding Purpose**

 **John Constantine, formerly of District Twelve**

 **District Four**

 **Written By BstnStrng13**

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" _The cure for anything is salt water - sweat, tears, or the sea."_ Isak Dinesen

* * *

John was running out of bridges.

Well, not _only_ bridges. He was running out of anything to repair, really. The devastation wrought on District Four by Hydra, once extensive, had been steadily mended to the degree that it was no longer obvious that there had been a battle. Streets were tidy, boats sailed regularly, and citizens walked around and tended to their business. Four had risen from the ashes.

And John was losing outlets for his restless energy.

Ever since the announcement of Diana and Kaldur's engagement, he'd been trying to take _busy_ to a whole new level. He'd joined the folks from Eleven in building the border. He'd sharpened enough spears and swords to fill an armory. He'd earned the goodwill of a few dozen mothers by keeping their fractious children entertained with magic tricks. And he'd even allowed Di's little sister, Donna, to demonstrate the latest hand-to-hand moves she'd learned in training. (He'd ended up flat on his back, promising himself he would never underestimate the kid again.)

And while he continued to be involved in settling disputes between the people of Four, he preferred physical activity to negotiations. A day of hard labor under the sun allowed him to sleep, even if his sleep was cluttered by dreams of Di sailing away on Kaldur's arm. Negotiations, on the other hand, inevitably came around to the topic of the wedding — something he was trying very hard _not_ to think about. Only sweat and aching muscles seemed to help. So he ran his body ragged and worried about what he was going to do when his labor was no longer needed.

Fortunately, relief came from an unexpected source.

John was spending a rare evening on his own, having a supper of fish stew in the small cottage in Asgard that was now his home. Both the cottage and the stew were gifts. The cottage had been granted to him by an aging Asgardian warrior who had decided to move in with his daughter and her family. The stew had been cooked by a woman who lived nearby and was delivered by her blushing sixteen-year-old daughter.

John liked the cottage. It consisted only of a kitchen, a sitting room, and a bedroom; but it was in good working order and had a wonderful view of the ocean. He had recently turned eighteen, and having a place of his own felt like one of those milestones that pulled him across the threshold into adulthood. As a bonus, the cottage was located near the Victor's Village, making it easy for him to visit Thor in what had been Odin's house.

This evening, however, it was Thor who came to see him. He bounded in through the open door and grinned when he saw John seated at the kitchen table.

"Ah… you are here. You have a call on the secure line," he announced. Then, he sniffed and glanced around the kitchen, his gaze quickly settling on the bowl in front of John.

" _I_ have a call on the secure line?" John repeated doubtfully.

Thor nodded. "From the director." He sniffed again. "That stew smells very appealing. You wouldn't, by chance, have any more?"

John pointed at the pot on the stove. "Help yourself." Then, he frowned. "Logan's calling _me_?" That was unusual. It wasn't that the Director didn't know John; it was more that he worked with Di when he had the kind of news that required a secure line. She was Four's leader, after all.

Thor went to the stove, spooned stew directly from the pot into his mouth, and then lifted his eyes reverently. "Ah — this is Eira's stew? By the gods, that woman can cook." When John merely looked at him, Thor added, "I believe there is some urgency with the call, John. I would suggest you go to the house immediately to take the transmission. I will follow shortly." He looked down at the pot. "One of us should finish this. It would be shame to waste Eira's labors."

John laughed. He'd had enough anyway. "Right."

Curious to hear what Logan had to say, he jogged to Thor's home and let himself in. The two-way radio was located in a small room in the back of the house, and he headed down the hall, glancing in the other rooms to make certain the place was empty. Logan had chosen a secure frequency, so John thought it best to keep the conversation to himself.

Satisfied no one was there, he raised the microphone to his mouth. "Hello?"

"John?"

"Yes."

"Good." Logan sounded pleased. "I got somethin' that I need done, and I think it might be right up your alley."

So Thor hadn't been kidding him. John furrowed his brow. "What is it?"

"It's a little stealth mission to Eight. Someone's gotta sneak in there and destroy some lab equipment."

 _Eight_ , John repeated to himself. His mind immediately went to Harley Quinn and, with a shiver, Jack Hamill. They had been two of the more capable and less… _stable_ … tributes in his Avenger Games. He wondered if there would ever come a time when his first thoughts of a district _wouldn't_ be its tributes. Aloud, he asked, "And you think that's right up _my_ alley?"

"The sneakin' part might be, anyway. Way I hear it, you're pretty good at fadin' into the woodwork and gettin' past the enemy."

John smiled. "I do okay."

"Better than okay, from what I've seen." Logan paused, and John swore he could hear children playing in the background. He recalled learning that the director had opened up his family home in Seven to refugees. That act alone made Logan a huge improvement over Fury, in John's book. "So, here's the deal," the director continued. "Norman Osborn imprisoned some rebel fighters in Eight and has been experimentin' on 'em. We managed to rescue the rebels but didn't get Osborn and didn't destroy his lab. Which means there's a good chance that he'll set up shop and start all over again."

John's smile disappeared. _More kids being turned into lab rats_ , he thought with dismay. He heard footsteps and looked up as Thor entered the room, still wiping the corners of his mouth with a satisfied expression.

"I need somebody to finish the job, and I can't get away to handle it myself or I would," Logan went on. "I don't want to give Osborn the chance to start experimentin' on anyone else. The lab's gotta be destroyed, and Osborn's gotta be eliminated." He paused, as if realizing how his last statement may have sounded. In a more even voice, he said, "Maybe I oughta explain myself on that. You ever meet Osborn when you were in the Capitol? You mighta seen him when you were training for the arena. He was the mentor for Eight with the helmet head."

"No."

"Well, he's a twisted sonofabitch. Crazy as they come — and nuts enough that he's his own kinda nasty that even Hydra don't wanna deal with him, but they do 'cause he gives 'em some nasty drugs to use against people, and he's bound to be more in demand with Viper dead. As long as he's allowed to operate on his own steam, you can bet those kids ain't gonna be safe. I know how it sounds, and I want you to know, I'm nothin' like Thanos or even Fury. I'm _not_ killin' everyone who disagrees with me. But Osborn has no conscience, no honor, and no qualms about usin' anyone he comes across for his own means. And he ain't gonna change."

John thought about Jack Hamill and the pleasure the tribute had taken in being cruel. Osborn had been one of his mentors. He looked up and met Thor's gaze. "I understand, Logan."

Thor smiled.

"Does that mean you wanna take the mission?" Logan asked. "'Cause I won't hold it against you if you don't want to do it."

John didn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Good." Logan sighed. "Now, the rest of the story. I can't give you an army on this one. We're spread pretty thin while we're shuttin' down Hydra, so you're gonna have to pull together your own team and figure out how to get it done. I'll give you every stitch of intel my people can get a hold of. But I'm asking you to lead this 'cause I think you have a good chance of gettin' in and out safely." He paused. "And 'cause I heard you _might_ be lookin' for somethin' to do."

At that last sentence, John glanced sharply at Thor — only to find the Asgardian examining his fingernails with a disinterested expression.

"I won't hold it against you if you said _no_ ," Logan finished. "You've done more'n your fair share in the war."

John thought about it for all of a second. A way to stop kids being experimented on plus a task that would get his mind off Di's marriage. It was a win-win. "I'm good for the mission," he said firmly.

"Great." Logan's voice was warm. "You've got twenty-four hours to get your team together and plan it out. Intel will come to you through Thor's secured communicae. I'll have a stealth transport in Four tomorrow. It'll get you to Eight under the cover of darkness."

"Sounds good."

"Right. Appreciate the help. Give 'em hell, John." And Logan ended the transmission.

John raised an eyebrow at Thor. "Logan heard I might be looking for something to do?"

The Asgardian smiled apologetically. "I might have mentioned something — I really can't recall." When John continued to look at him, he shrugged. "You were repairing things that did not require repair."

John sighed. "Fair enough."

"Please do not get killed on this mission," Thor added. "Osborn may not have a conscience, but _I_ do — and your death would weigh heavily upon it."

"I have no intention of getting killed."

Thor studied John's face and then nodded. "Do you know how you will go about destroying Osborn and his lab?"

John grinned. "I have an idea. I'm going to see a girl about some bombs."

* * *

"Can I borrow your wife?"

As soon as the sentence was out, John knew he could have phrased it better. He'd been so focused on the mission that he hadn't given much thought to his words, particularly the words he was using with a newly-wedded man. Noh-Varr looked down at him from his considerable height and frowned.

John winced and tried again. "I need Jubilee's help with explosives," he clarified. "Logan's given me an assignment, and I think her bombs could be a huge asset."

"Oh." Comprehension filled Noh-Varr's face. "Of course, John. Come in."

"Thanks."

John liked Noh. The tall, blue-skinned man had been Twelve's stylist in the Games. He had taken considerable pains preparing John for his assessment when the rest of world believed the skinny miner would be killed off as soon as he set foot in the arena. Noh had been kind and encouraging — probably the only sympathetic Capitolite John had met during training. It bothered him now that he had to disturb the man so soon after his wedding, but he didn't see any alternatives.

So he followed Noh-Varr into the house that he and Jubilee were using for their honeymoon. Unlike John's unadorned cottage, the place was artfully decorated. There were colored stones and shells in various locations and vases of fresh-cut flowers on the tables. All the colors seemed to work together, and the overall result was a sense of light and peace.

 _Definitely the home of two stylists_ , John thought.

"Jubilee, sweetheart," Noh-Varr announced, "we have a visitor. John Constantine comes seeking our help. Well, your help in particular."

Jubilee turned away from the table she'd been facing, and John winced again. He could see that she'd been about to open a bottle of wine — no doubt the start of what was supposed to be a romantic evening. He watched as her gaze met Noh's and registered polite annoyance.

John raised his hands in apology. "I'm sorry to interrupt — really, I am. Logan's given me an assignment, and I was hoping you might be able to help. It's sort of a rescue mission."

"You want help with a job Wolvie gave you?" Jubilee's eyes brightened a little.

John nodded. "Yes…please. Can we sit?"

"Oh, totally," Jubilee said, her body language signaling a more open and excited attitude. "What's the story? And what can I do? So. Totally down."

The three of them pulled chairs into a circle, and John relayed what Logan had told him about Osborn and the experiments. "I was looking at aerial photos of Eight, and I'm guessing the lab is located in one of the factories — or maybe in Osborn's company, Oscorp," he explained. "The quickest way to destroy it will be to blow it up. With the revolution going on, most of those buildings are empty, so the risk to the general population is small. With the right explosives, I could strike before Osborn even knows I'm there."

Jubilee pursed her lips thoughtfully.

"I was hoping you could make some bombs that can be remotely triggered and are stable enough for me to stuff in a backpack," John continued. "I can sneak in there, plant them, and then set them off when I'm a safe distance away."

"Oh, for sure, I can do that — _no problem_." Jubilee's eyes were bright as she chewed on a fresh piece of bubblegum. "But we might be able to do _more_ than that." She turned to Noh-Varr and fixed him with a beaming smile. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, sparkle pants?"

Her husband looked into her eyes, then covered her hand with his. "Of course, my Jubilee. After all, this is Eight we're talking about."

"Exactly." Jubilee grinned. She blew a massive bubble and then reached over to pat John on the knee. "John, my friend, not only am I gonna make those bombs, but Noh and I will go with you to set 'em. That way, if there's a problem, I'll be there to fix it."

Noh-Varr nodded his agreement and caressed the back of his wife's neck.

John frowned, taken aback by their generosity. "I can't ask you to do that. You're newlyweds, for goodness sake. You're doing me a huge favor just by taking the time to make the bombs."

Noh shrugged. "Stylists see a lot during the Games — more than people give us credit for. We remember Norman Osborn well. He's cruel and has no decency or respect for life."

"He's a first class a-hole," Jubilee corrected Noh. "And I'd love to sock him in his stupid helmet-haired, scuzzy, cheap cologne-coated face." She grinned. "But you know… full disclosure … we _might,_ just maybe, perhaps, just a lil' smidge, have _another_ reason for going." When John didn't seem to follow her thinking, her eyes sparkled, and she grinned even wider. "You know what those factories in Eight _make_ , right?"

John frowned. "Textiles?"

Noh nodded. "Exactly. Jubilee and I have been racking our brains over what to do for Diana Prince. If she and I are going to style the biggest wedding Four has seen in a _decade_ , we need something really special for Diana's dress."

"An hour or two in the factories or warehouses and we could find a fabric that's spec- _tac-_ ular," Jubilee added.

John closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Apparently, it was impossible to avoid news of the wedding, even when planning a bombing mission.

"I was hoping to get in and out as quickly as possible," he said doubtfully. "I'm not sure there will be time to… look at fabrics."

Jubilee was unconcerned. "Yeah ... but you've gotta take out Osborn too, don't you?" she said. "Noh and I can search the factories for the lab, plant the bombs, _and_ check out the materials — while you're off hunting the goblin. Easy peasy."

John sighed. He didn't think it was a good idea to have distractions when handling bombs, but he also wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Noh and Jubilee were _volunteering_ — which meant he wasn't going to have to ask anyone else to risk his or her life. Plus, he'd seen them both in battle against Hydra. John knew they could fight… and Jubilee definitely knew her explosives.

"Okay," he said. "Sounds like a plan."

John didn't get much sleep that night. He was keyed up about the mission; partly from the danger and partly because it was the first time he'd taken on anything of this size without either Kaldur or Diana. Right from the start, he'd made up his mind _not_ to tell them about Logan's assignment. His rationale was that he didn't want to give them something to worry about. If he were honest, he knew the real reason was that they would insist on joining him and he would be too weak to say _no_. And it was high time he got used to doing things on his own.

He was ready and waiting, along with Jubilee and Noh-Varr, when the transport arrived to take them to Eight. They had spent the day getting the bombs ready, and each now carried a handful in his backpack. For dealing with Osborn, John brought his trusty axe and at the last moment had added a dagger hidden under his pant leg at the ankle. He figured a little redundancy never hurt.

They were boarding the transport when Thor and the Lady Sif ran up.

"Ah, thank the gods we caught you before you left," Thor said. "We thought to aid you on this mission." He hesitated and then amended, "Well, _Sif_ thought to aid you. I am nursing a training injury and will remain here to rest—" He raised an arm that appeared perfectly fine to John. "—but Sif is more than ready to wield her sword with you."

John smiled at Sif. "Thank you. That's very kind. I'm always grateful for another sword." Then, he narrowed his eyes at Thor with an expression that he hoped said: _What did I tell you about matchmaking?_

Thor looked at him with a guileless expression.

Promising himself he would have a talk with big Asgardian when he got back, John turned to Sif. "Do you know Jubilee and Noh-Varr?" he asked. "They're providing the explosive portion of the program."

She smiled, and handshakes were exchanged before the four of them before they took their seats on the transport. As they lifted off, John looked down at Thor's grinning face and couldn't be _too_ annoyed with his meddling. Sif was an able fighter, and it wouldn't hurt to have someone watch his back.

The transport sped through the sky, and the chatter settled into what John had come to expect before a mission: a little humor to ease the tension, a few serious reminders about the plan, and a fair amount of silence. At one point, Noh-Varr looked at John with a sober expression.

"Be careful with Norman Osborn. He's a clever man. He'll tie you up with his words, and I guarantee he'll have a few tricks up his sleeve."

John nodded. "Okay."

"Don't give him a chance to distract you," Noh continued. "Don't listen to him. When you find him, take him out right away."

John turned to Sif and saw that she was perfectly comfortable with Noh's advice.

"Will do."

The transport landed in a large, vacant lot, and they stepped out into Eight. It was nearing midnight, and the sky was dark, but John could still make out the silhouettes of the factories a half a mile away. Sif wrinkled her nose and frowned, and John wondered if it was her first trip away from Four. Eight was full of industrial smells — oil, exhaust and damp concrete. There was no sea breeze carrying the clean scent of the ocean.

"You and I are looking for Osborn," he explained to her. "I was thinking that he wouldn't stay in his house after the raid to free the rebels. He'll want to hide in case somebody comes back for him. So I thought we'd start with Oscorp headquarters — it's a large building, and he'll probably feel safe there." He shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's got a couple of bodyguards hanging around him too."

Sif glanced at her sword and didn't appear concerned about either Osborn _or_ his bodyguards.

"Noh and Jubilee are going after the lab," John continued. "We'll keep in touch with these communication links—" He raised his wrist. "—and when we've done what we need to do, we'll meet back here at the transport."

More nods; then, the group divided into two pairs, heading off into the night.

It had been several months since John had been down the mines of Twelve, so he was pleased to find that moving through the dark was still second nature. They covered ground quickly, with Sif walking behind him, her hand occasionally resting on his back. She was easy to be with, he thought. No nervous chatter, no unnecessary gestures. She didn't anticipate his moves the way Di did, but then, she hadn't been his partner in the Games.

They reached Oscorp HQ without seeing a soul and entered the building. It was dimly lit with low-level emergency lights, and John's heart sank as he estimated that there were at least twenty doors on the first floor. _A lot of places for a man to hide_. And the four stories above probably looked exactly the same. They had their work cut out for them.

Sif gave him a _what can you do?_ shrug and pointed down the hallway. He nodded, and they began moving silently, cautiously easing each door open to examine the room behind it. The first twelve doors yielded nothing. The thirteenth door revealed what was clearly a datacenter. John stared in surprise at the dozens of servers stacked on shelves, their colored lights blinking in a staccato dance.

"This must supply most of the computing power used by Oscorp," he whispered to Sif. "I'll bet Osborn's got all the data from his experiments stored here."

She stared at the servers. "Aye." Then, she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I believe it would be difficult for anyone to replicate those experiments if that data were destroyed."

John chuckled. "Good point." He removed his backpack and carefully extracted one of Jubilee's bombs.

"Do you think one is enough?" Sif asked.

"Jubes says they pack a punch."

She smiled.

John hid the bomb behind one of the servers, then lifted his communication link to his mouth. "It's John," he said softly. "We're in Oscorp HQ."

There was a brief crack of static. Then, Jubilee replied, "We're in our first factory. It's a lot of ground to cover, but no one's here to bother us. It's deserted."

"Yeah," he sighed. "We've got a lot of places to look, too. No sign of Osborn so far, but we did find a bunch of servers that probably contain data from his experiments. We've planted a bomb to destroy them. Any luck finding the lab?"

Another crackle of static, followed by Jubilee's cheerful voice. "Not yet. But we did find a lovely cream chiffon that we think will be wonderful for Diana's wedding dress."

Sif looked at John and laughed before she could stop herself.

He rolled his eyes. "Are you sure cream is a good color for Di?" he deadpanned. "I think she'd look better in a true white…or maybe a dusty rose."

Sif continued to laugh, but there was no answering chuckle over the comms. Apparently, Noh-Varr and Jubilee were mulling over his comment.

John heard Noh's voice in the background. "He could be right about that, my darling Jubilee. With those blue eyes and dark hair, Diana's a winter. She's better off with cool colors."

Jubilee's voice was a little louder. "Ya think? I was goin' for the beachy vibe… and she could pull off a spring palette, too."

"No… her hair would need to be more auburn for that. It's almost black. And her complexion is fair to rosy. John's right; true white would be a better choice."

"Yeah, I suppose. But you know how much I like a little color. Dusty rose wouldn't work, though."

"No, not at all. That's definitely a spring color. We passed an aquamarine silk a few minutes ago that might look fantastic—"

"Guys!" John interrupted. "The lab — remember? We want to destroy it?"

"Jewel tones," Jubilee whispered triumphantly, followed by another pause. "Relax," she said more soberly. "We've totally got it, Johnny."

"Thank you."

For the next hour, the comms were quiet as John and Sif moved methodically through Oscorp headquarters. More than half of the rooms were empty; a few contained bolts of cloth (which John opted _not_ to mention to Jubilee and Noh-Varr); and several were full of filing cabinets and stacks of paper. John's frustration mounted as they saw no sign of Osborn. He began to think he'd been wrong in assuming the man wasn't hiding in his house.

They had just come out of the stairwell on the top floor when Jubilee's voice once again sounded over the communication link.

"Bingo!"

John lifted his link. "You found the lab?"

"Oh yeah. And we're planting enough explosives to blow the thing sky high. There won't be a piece bigger than your thumb when we're done with it."

"Excellent."

"I beg to differ. Some of my best work went into that lab. I'd prefer it to remain intact."

The voice was cold and steady. John's head snapped up to see Norman Osborn step out of a doorway not more than twenty feet down the hall. He was flanked by two Hydra agents.

Mindful of the man's tricks, John didn't bother replying. He simply pulled his axe out of his belt and threw it in one quick, smooth motion. He knew immediately that his aim had been true but then watched in dismay as one of the agents leapt in front of Osborn and took the axe in his own chest, falling dead to the ground and leaving Osborn very much alive.

John cursed.

The second agent barely spared a glance for his fallen comrade. He raised a sword and charged John and Sif, an angry scowl on his face. Sif stepped out to meet him, her own sword gleaming in the faint light of the hallway. She confidently parried his blows and then went on the attack, backing the agent against the wall and leaving John free to pursue Osborn. He pulled the dagger out of his ankle sheath and headed down the hall.

To his surprise, Osborn didn't attempt to run. He waited; and when John was nearly upon him, the man calmly held up one hand. John saw that he was holding a syringe.

"I wouldn't get too close, if I were you," Osborn crowed. "I've been perfecting this little cocktail of mine." He waved the syringe. "I'm delighted with its effects, but _you_ might not be so pleased when you get a taste of it."

John froze. For an instant, he was taken back to the Games and the poisoned arrow that had led to his death. Then, he felt the hilt of the dagger in his hand, recalled his training and his mission, and shook his head.

"I have no intention of tasting your cocktail, and neither will anyone else."

He flung the dagger, striking Osborn in the chest. The man staggered and fell backward; then lay gasping on the ground, wounded but still alive. John saw that the dagger had not pierced whatever excuse the man had for a heart. He knew he was going to have to do more to make certain Osborn couldn't rise again.

He retrieved his axe and stepped next to Osborn, raising the weapon. Before he could deliver the fatal blow, however, he felt a small prick in his calf and looked down to see the syringe sticking out of it. Horrified, he stepped back and pulled the needle out, flinging the syringe away.

"John?" Sif was by his side, the blade of her sword now red with blood.

He pointed at the syringe, relieved to see that most of the liquid was still in it. "He got me with some of that — I don't know what it is."

Sif's glance darted to the syringe and then back to Osborn. She lowered her sword and pointed it at his throat. "What is in it?" she demanded.

Osborn grinned and said nothing, his gasps coming faster.

Sif shrugged and moved the tip of her sword further down Osborn's body; to his abdomen… and then lower still. "Perhaps I am not making myself clear," she said evenly. "You _are_ going to die, Osborn. You can die quickly and with little pain or you can die slowly in a great deal of agony. The choice is yours. Now…what was in that syringe?"

Osborn looked up and met her gaze. He must have seen that she meant what she said, because his grin disappeared. "It's just a tranquilizer," he said in a whisper. "I use it to make my test subjects more compliant. Just a tranquilizer."

Sif pressed down with the tip of her sword. "That is the truth?"

"Yes! Yes — it's the truth. _Please_."

"Very well."

And with one swift stroke, Sif slit his throat.

* * *

The trip back to Four was more than a bit hazy for John. He didn't pass out from Osborn's drug, but his brain became foggy, and it felt as though there was a veil between him and his surroundings. He was dimly aware of Sif leading him to the transport and the loud explosion that occurred when Jubilee triggered the bombs with her remote device. Every now and then, Noh's face would loom large in John's field of vision as the stylist checked his eyes and his pulse.

"His heartbeat is strong," he heard Noh's voice say. "Pupils are still dilated. It's going to take time to wear off."

 _Time_... John was okay with that. The sensation the drug produced was not unpleasant. He had no pain, and his limbs felt light — so light he thought he would float out of his transport seat if Sif wasn't holding his hand. Best of all, he had an overall sense of well-being, as if all was right with the world. Even through his fog, he knew they had accomplished their mission.

"We did good, didn't we?" He beamed at his companions.

"Yes, John." Sif patted his knee. "We did good."

"Good."

The transport landed in Four in the middle of the morning. When the door opened, John rose from his seat — then sat abruptly down again as the floor shifted beneath him. Sif placed her arm around his waist and helped him once more to his feet.

"Lean on me," she said gently. "I will get you home."

He grinned. "Thanks, Sif. You're so nice." He attempted to put his arm around her shoulders and found he had to reach up slightly to do it. "You're also tall," he murmured. "Like Di. How come all the girls in Four are so tall?"

She smiled. "We throw the little ones back in the ocean."

"Oh."

He kept his arm around her as they stepped out of the aircraft. A small group of people were clustered by the door, and he found he needed her assistance to maintain his balance as they navigated the sea of bodies. One of those bodies, he realized, belonged to Thor.

He waved happily with his free arm. "Hey, Thor."

Thor didn't smile back. He stared at Sif, and his brow furrowed. "Is he injured?"

She shook her head. "No. Osborn stuck him with a tranquilizer. It is temporary, but he is a little unsteady at the moment."

"And Osborn?"

"Osborn?" John interrupted, grinning up at Thor. "Sif took care of him." He raised his hand to his throat and made a slicing motion. "Awwwlllll…. gone." He patted Sif's shoulder. "She's fierce."

Thor's worried expression was replaced with a smile. "Aye, that she is."

"And she's tall," John continued, "'cause Four throws the little ones back in the ocean."

Thor looked at Sif.

"Don't ask," she said.

A pair of faces emerged from the crowd, and John found himself looking at Diana and Kaldur. He leaned his head on Sif's shoulder. "Hey look," he whispered to her. "It's Di and her soon-to-be husband." He waved and said more loudly, "Hey, guys."

"John?"

Di had a peculiar expression on her face. It wasn't one he recognized, and he thought he had seen all her expressions. He studied it and decided it was somewhere between worry, disapproval, and… something else.

He blinked and nodded. "Di."

She frowned. "You went on a mission by yourself, without informing me — _us_."

Was _that_ why she looked so… whatever? John hastened to reassure her. "Oh yeah, I went on a mission. But it was a little mission." He held up his thumb and his forefinger. "Very little. And it worked. Jubilee blew up Osborn's labs…. _Boom!_ And Sif took care of Osborn." He squeezed Sif's shoulder once more. "She's fierce."

Di turned to Thor and raised an eyebrow.

"He's drugged," Thor explained. "They tell me it will wear off in a few hours — although I find him rather agreeable like this. He is far too serious most of the time."

Di didn't laugh. "You had knowledge of this mission?" she asked Thor.

The Asgardian's face sobered, and he shuffled uneasily. "I may have."

"And you did not think it necessary to inform me, Brother?"

"Ooh," John whispered once more to Sif. "Di's playing the _brothe_ r card. She's fierce too."

Sif wisely said nothing.

"Thor—" Diana began.

"S'okay, Di," John broke in, hoping to wipe the frown off her face. "Don't be mad. It's a nice day." He waved his hand at the blue sky. "Everything worked out, and I just need to sleep it off. Sif's gonna take me home and put me to bed, aren't ya, Sif?"

Thor started to laugh once more — but stopped when he caught Diana's eye.


	58. Chapter 58: Honor of the Heart

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're gonna take just a second to unwrap this twisted triangle... if we can. :P**

 **Thanks as always to all our writers who reviewed (and who are supporting each other in the reviews!) Thanks also to SlimSummers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41 for your reviews. Seems like killing Norman and making John hilariously high are winning plot choices ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty-Eight - Honor Of The Heart**

 **Diana Prince of District Four**

 **District Four**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _But often life asks much of you, and you either honor life by answering with all your heart, or you cower your way into your grave."_ ― James Clemens

" _It's like when you've been crying, and you're empty, and you're full; I don't know what it is, it's hard to tell." -_ Elton John

* * *

When she had been pulled from the Games by Bruce Wayne, Diana had thought that the most confusing part of her life had been completed. The abrupt displacement of her life into an alien world of neon lights and large hairstyles had shattered her. It was not dissimilar to being informed by Antiope that little girls didn't always win sparring matches, but on a larger scale. She had felt the crushing pressure of leading a group of doomed teenagers and felt the sick pain in her stomach as her friends died around her and in her arms.

Bruce Wayne had freed her from that and supposedly brought her back to her old life. Yet Diana, looking out on the sea by the Asgardians' semi-rebuilt docks, had a quiet moment where she wished to go back to the arena, when all that mattered was survival, getting through the day, and keeping her friends safe. She cast a quick look sideways, where the Atlantean boats bobbed tied to charred posts; those docks were next in line for the army of builders working like bees on the shoreline.

Before the Games, the world had been simple. _Prepare to lead the Amazons. Prepare to go it alone. Stand against the Capitol. Be capable of dancing through Arthur and Odin._ There had been no side roads for the frivolities that now reared their heads. Side roads clouded judgment, led to stupidity. How many so-called 'heroes' had taken side roads for damsels, only to crash down in fire and blood, lamenting their mistakes far too late?

 _This is the right path to take,_ she thought, staring back out at the ocean, listening to the waves lap against the shore in a rhythmic pattern. Her heartbeat slowed to match it, and she hadn't realized it had been racing all this time. _I can be happy if I choose to be happy._ As the words crossed her mind, the back of her eyes began to burn, and she squinted toward the sun, taking a breath.

"Happy is a child's concern," she said softly, the burning intensifying. She couldn't get John's frowning face out her mind.

Kaldur had agreed with it. Thor had agreed with it. Her close blood family had agreed that this was the best thing for their district and, by association, the best thing for Diana. She just had to _choose_ in her head that it _was_ the best thing.

Diana kicked off her boots, nudging herself closer to the water so her feet slipped into the salt, the warmth seeping through her skin, encouraging her to sit and stay awhile longer. She was supposed to be helping Heimdall clear Odin's home after the visitors from SHIELD had taken their leave. She let out a little sigh.

Diana watched the waves again, noting how they altered course farther from her perch, where the riptides lurked below the water and the large rocks waited to splinter a swimmer's leg. Her brow furrowed. She was a strong swimmer. For one brief moment, she pondered the idea of leaping from the dock and swimming out into the unknown and away from her responsibilities.

She laughed out loud at her thoughts. "Diana Prince, you are not one to run from your fate like a mewling kitten," she said in as stern a tone as she could manage, her body a confused mix of emotions as she continued to keep the burning tears at bay. "You are a leader of Four, and you shall act accordingly."

Even as she said the words aloud, they sounded hollow to her ears, and when she looked at her future as leader of Four, she still could not picture herself arm-in-arm with Kaldur. Diana didn't want to think about romance or marriage or being a damsel and bearing children. These were not things that she was supposed to be concerned with at this present time.

Yet here she was, forced into having it at the forefront of her mind, for the good of Four, to secure a solid future. It was her duty. John's frown as he urged her to forget about duty seared itself into her mind. "It is the right thing to do, John," she whispered. Not for the first time, she wished he were beside her to talk.

A wave of guilt rose up when the wish appeared, because it was supposed to be _Kaldur_ with whom she needed to air her grievances with the world, with the foolish — and yet, astronomical — notion that marriage was needed at this very moment. _She_ had let John walk away. _She_ had let John die in the remnants of his love confession.

She had no right to want him to be with her. She had no right to wonder where he had disappeared to. She had no right to feel a wave of anger at her last sight of him and Sif together.

Diana kicked the water, sending a cascade of droplets into the air, and turned away from the dock, picking up her boots and striding barefoot back toward the main cluster of the Asgardian buildings. It was cool in Odin's old house, and Diana was distracted with the knowledge that, had her life been altered, she might have called this place _home_. It would have been Hippolyta in the homestead, and the leaders would have been united by the knot.

"It is my duty to be with Kaldur," she reminded herself.

Had Frigga known of Diana's heritage? Had she forgiven Odin for his wayward nature? What would happen in Diana and Kaldur's case?

She rested her side against one of the big wooden beams that propped up a support wall and sighed. _You're going to sleep beside this man and wake up next to him for the rest of your life_.

"The rest of my life is a long time," Diana conceded. She pulled herself off the beam and continued on to the kitchen, where she had been earlier that day. Thor was nowhere to be seen, though this was _his_ home. Heimdall was still where she had left him, sharpening weapons at the table. He looked up as she entered the room, but there was no surprise in his gaze, and she knew he had heard her come in — and everything in between.

"Your guests have left, then?" she asked.

"Our friends at SHIELD thought their celebrations were ill-timed, given the state of some of the districts," Heimdall said with a small shrug. "They took their leave shortly after you left to... 'gather wood'." He eyed her wet feet and hands full of boots, not logs, but said nothing.

"Aye, the wood gathering was poor," Diana said by way of defense.

"I hope the thought gathering was more fruitful," Heimdall replied with a raised eyebrow.

Diana was silent for a moment, then dropped her boots to the ground with a dull clatter, falling onto the bench beside him. "It was no more fruitful than a year-old fig tree," she finally proclaimed.

"Perhaps give it another few years; then it may bear some reward."

The sharp noise of the whetstone on the sword was a comfort to Diana as she turned her head toward him. "Heimdall, I don't have the luxury of a few years of loitering. I have agreed to a decision, and to break that now would dishonor my family. It would tar my bid for leadership and blacken my own honor 'til I reach the Elysian Fields."

"This sort of thing is not really my area of expertise, Odinsdottir," Heimdall said, pausing his sharpening. "Lady Sif is more your age and may have a more… fitting perspective on the matter."

Diana fixed him with a hard glare at his words, her face flushing. "Sif knows about as much of these affairs as Yggdrasil, and would probably tell me to dive off a cliff as a way of decision-making," Diana replied, snorting. Heimdall's lips twitched ever so slightly upward, but she caught it, her eyes narrowing. "You don't agree with that sentiment? Come, Heimdall, adviser to the All-Father, friend of Thor and of mine, you have been quite free with your words since Four learned of my lineage. I would hate for you to lose your tongue now."

"I neither agree nor disagree with your exceptionally unbiased opinion of Lady Sif, though might I say it is _not_ the same opinion your miner has." He began to move the whetstone once more, ignoring the thunderous look creeping over Diana's face. "But diving off a cliff would at least give you a clear head." He fixed her a hard stare of his own. "Tell me, Odinsdottir, is it honorable for you to make a decision you don't completely support?" The whetstone scraped through the air. "How can you expect to lead your people with truth, honor, and love when you are denying all these things about yourself?"

Diana stood so abruptly the bench rattled with the force of her knees, and Heimdall lost his grip on his blade. She took a long breath as it banged against the wood and came to rest by his foot. "You are a good adviser, Heimdall," she noted quietly, lacking the usual brass nature she felt she always needed, the tone oddly calm.

He was nodding as she turned her heel and strode back out of the kitchen. "Thank you for your aid tidying _our_ mess," he called after her. Diana had forgotten her reason for returning in the first place, but she didn't look back, waving an apology toward him as she marched out, her feet sinking into the dirt between her toes. Her movements had purpose, and she kept up a brisk pace, because she feared that if she even slowed for a minute, the purpose would slip from her grasp, and she would be back where she started on the docks, with tears in her eyes and confusion in her heart.

Kaldur would be with the Atlanteans. She knew this, because Mera had said they had things to discuss following the announcement of their engagement. She only hoped that Mera and Arthur would not be present when she reached her friend. _Fiancé._ The word did not fill Diana with the emotion she had experienced since her conversation with Arthur. She still didn't know what to call it, but she was certainly glad it had decided to make its departure.

She followed the well-worn path to the Currys' stronghold, keeping her gaze fixed on the task at hand, her face draining of color as she walked. She scrunched up her face in an effort to maintain the level of emotion that she thought she needed to go through with this incredible act of dishonor on her family — and face the spite it would show Atlantis.

Kaldur was not inside when the stronghold came into her view. She picked out his sturdy frame immediately at the shoreline, in deep conversation with his dark-haired friend as they laughed together and pulled a boat to the shore, both of them dripping wet from being in the sea. His friend — _Gerritt?_ The name escaped her frazzled mind — spotted her first, nudging Kaldur in a knowing way. Kaldur looked up her way, dipping his head in acknowledgment, walking toward her after a brief moment.

"I wasn't expecting you today," he said as he reached her, leaning in to give her a kiss on her cheek. The movement was awkwardly formal, lacking the easy air that had grown between them in the time since they were first Reaped. Diana's face flushed again though, not from his action but from the burning memory of another set of lips against her skin.

"I wasn't expecting me today either," Diana answered.

Kaldur raised an eyebrow but otherwise declined to comment on her questionable statement. "You've lost your shoes," he observed, giving her a small smile.

"That's not all I appear to have lost today," Diana said, "although I think I have also found some things, which in finding them, may have caused other things to be lost in the process. Perhaps they were supposed to stay lost. Maybe I should just throw them away again into the sea." She had never heard her voice spilling words out so quickly and in such a nonsensical manner, and she knew she was going to lose it, that the will of honor and duty was going to overpower her.

Kaldur gripped both her forearms in his hands, pulling her back down from the heights she was climbing to, and looked intently into her eyes.

"I don't want to marry you, Kaldur," she breathed out, her voice finding that strange calm from before. Kaldur sucked in his breath at the words, and she felt like she had delivered him a fatal blow. "I know that you do not want to marry me either." They had had this discussion already, in the cove. They had been through it, and they had somehow managed to find their way to the justification that they could be happy. "I think I would grow to resent you if I married you, Kaldur Ahm, and that is something I wish to avoid, as you are my friend, my ally, my adviser, and my partner."

Kaldur stole a quick glance back toward the sea. "We have already agreed. We agreed before the district. You gave the Sea King your word," Kaldur said. " _I_ gave him my word."

Diana nodded, agreeing with all the statements he said, but her gaze never left his. "I thought I could be happy if I just chose to be. Somebody more wise than I told me otherwise; I just didn't want to believe him until today." There was that burning sensation in the back of her eyes again, and she scrunched her face a little, losing a bit of the calm serenity that had washed over her.

"I also have no desire to resent you in years to come," Kaldur said at last, giving her a very small smile. "Despite my initial misgivings of you, Prince, you have shown what a true friend you are, and you are a most treasured companion in arms. But I cannot extend my feelings further, try as I might. And I will try _anything_ for my king and queen, for our district."

Diana crushed her eyes further together, since it seemed like her vision was getting a little blurry, and she was _not_ a mewling kitten, she was a _warrior_ , and she would not be rendered into such a helpless state by this situation.

"Diana, you know it's okay to show emotion," Kaldur said, reaching up to her face to wipe away a tear threatening to curl down her cheek. "If our gods can weep for joy and sadness and love, then it is not a sign of weakness but a show of strength."

They stood there in silence broken only by the sound of a returning helicarrier and the ocean. An occasional tear dripped down from Diana's eyes as she moved her shoulders up and down in an effort to compose herself under Kaldur's warm hands.

"I mean, I am somewhat offended that you're weeping for joy at the thought of not marrying me," Kaldur eventually said. "Am I really so terrible, such a lowly diver?"

Diana let out a half-crying laugh, reaching forward to squeeze his forearm. "You will stand by my decision?" she asked, her words wavering slightly.

"I will gladly support you," he replied, becoming serious again. "You have freed yourself, and you are freeing me."

"I have just laid waste to your honor, and mine, and now Arthur will be faced with a humiliation that I fear he will not recover from."

"Arthur is made of tougher mettle than just his pride," Kaldur said, his voice confident. "He is like the shore. Stoic, steadfast, but able to change, if the need arises. He will see reason." He paused. "Once the storm of his anger is past," he clarified.

"Arthur Curry is known for his love for his queen; he should see that others have the right to that happiness," Diana noted, bolstered by Kaldur's tone. She and Heimdall had discussed it at length the previous night. "So you are correct: he will see it my way. I will speak with him, once I figure out the best way to show this is what is right for _his_ people. _Your_ people." She paused, and her voice wavered again. "You will still be my adviser..." It was _almost_ a question.

"Aye, Prince, I am duty- and honor-bound to follow you," Kaldur said without hesitation, "and I will stand by this decision that gives us both the chance for happiness. The Sea King will face me as well, and I will, as ever, stand for what I believe." He shot her an amused look, squeezing her forearms tight against her body. "Somebody needs to call you out on your tyrannical leadership, and I highly doubt it will be John."

"John?" she asked. "John has not spoken to me since his SHIELD mission. Besides, John Constantine has nothing to do—"

"I am quite sure he has quite a lot to do with this," Kaldur interrupted her. "You know, in the Capitol, you always poked fun at Thor for being all brawn and no brains in his Games, but honestly, Diana, sometimes I wonder what is going on in the space between _your_ ears."

"I am unsure about my feelings for— _hey_!" Diana broke off in exclamation as Kaldur reached up and flicked her forehead with his fingers.

"As your adviser, I am suggesting you go to our friend. You never seem to listen unless brute force is used."

"I have spurned him before," she said. "What makes you think he will understand my confusion?"

Kaldur put a hand to his forehead and sighed. "By the gods, Diana, of course he will understand; he _loves_ you."

"Oh."

"Aye. 'Oh.' Now, please go. I will wait for you before speaking to Arthur. You should have the chance to speak to John first before the whole of Four learns of our decision from the sound of the Sea King's wrath."

Kaldur released her from his grip, and as the feeling returned to her upper arm, Diana turned and began striding with the same speed and vigor as she had displayed upon leaving Heimdall. The fear of slowing down was enough to keep her going, as the ground gave way once more to sand and her feet sank into the ground.

She thought about stopping at Thor's home to collect her boots but figured it would just make her lose her nerve. So Diana was practically running by the time she reached John's cottage and her fist pounded on the door. As the seconds ticked by, her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and the pep that Kaldur had given her began to be pumped away.

Diana was about to walk away when the latch clicked open, and the door swung back to reveal John, looking distinctly more like himself than he had at their last meeting.

"Di?" he asked, a hint of surprise in his voice as he took her in. "Why are you here? Wait, why did you knock?" He glanced down. "Where the hell are your boots?"

"I do not _always_ wear boots," Diana answered, struggling to regain her composure from her power walk and attempting to answer the questions from the simplest up. "And I knocked because I didn't want to interrupt you if you had company."

"Company?" John asked, surprise and confusion still mixed into his tone. "That never stopped you before."

"Aye, well, I didn't want to interrupt if you had _company_ over," Diana reiterated, stressing the word. "Lady Sif would not appreciate my intrusion."

"Oh," John said.

"Aye. 'Oh.'"

"Me and Sif," John continued.

"Sif and you," Diana reiterated.

"Aren't anything," John finished.

"Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh.'"

Silence stretched out between them, and Diana couldn't help thinking of their last one-on-one conversation and the anger that had flared up between them.

"So, are you going to tell me why you're here? Or am I going to have to guess, because I'm a bit crap at that, to be honest," John started, breaking through the silence.

"I left my boots in Thor's kitchen," Diana began, by way of stalling.

"I don't really bloody care if you want to prance around barefoot, Di, but I figure you'll get to the real answer in a minute, so I'll just say that was a bit careless on the boot front." He paused, glancing in the direction of Diana's pseudo-family home. "You never know what goes on in _that_ kitchen."

"I have broken off my engagement with Kaldur," she said quickly, before she could stall again.

John seemed to jolt in place just a little. He opened his mouth several times but only managed to shake his head. "Why?" he finally asked.

"Because somebody told me I needed to be happy, and I have discovered that I will never be happy with Kaldur," she stated simply.

"That somebody was bloody intelligent, then."

"Aye." She fell silent, her gaze downward. She was, for the first time in a long time, allowing not just one person in a day but multiple people to see her uncertainty. "That one told me quite a lot of things, but I was very foolish. I thought that I could only focus on one thing at a time. I thought that if I let myself get that confused, mixed-up feeling that those side roads lead to, it would cloud my judgment." John was quiet when she paused, and she wondered if he was going to tell her to leave. "I was wrong. It was the height of foolishness."

"That doesn't sound like a foolish person," John said eventually. "Sounds like somebody who was feeling pretty damn stupid but got a sharp kick back into intelligence."

"John, I don't know what I'm feeling," she whispered, shifting from foot to foot. _What if my words fail?_

"That's alright, Di," John answered. She heard his feet shuffle hesitantly toward her.

"I have hurt you deep in your soul, and cut you to the core too many times," Diana said. _This was wrong. This is the wrong path. I will hurt him again and again._ Her heart hammered in her chest.

"I never thought I had a soul anyway, Di," John said. His hand brushed against her chin, tilting it up so their eyes met. "And I know for a fact that love heals the core." Then, he leaned in and kissed her, this time softly on the lips, and Diana thought her heart was going to burn out of her chest with the heat that spread over her.


	59. Chapter 59: Therapeutic

**(A/N): Happy Friday! This time, let's check in with one of our lovely little Titans ;)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed. We love your enthusiasm and support!**

* * *

 **Chapter Fifty-Nine - Therapeutic**

 **Richard "Dick" Grayson**

 **District Seven**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _The ultimate goal of therapy... it's too hard a question. The words come to me like tranquility, like fulfillment, like realizing your potential."_ — Irvin D. Yalom

* * *

Dick was glad to be back in District Seven. Not that he hadn't enjoyed getting out with the Titans, and not that he didn't like going places with Kory… It was just that he liked being home, and he wanted to make sure Logan was alright. The reports they'd gotten in the field so far had all been good ones, but…

Well, the truth of the matter was that Dick wasn't looking forward to having a chat with Charles when he got back, but he couldn't help but think of Logan and _his_ reluctance, and it was sort of turning into a circle in his mind.

 _Don't want to go. Turning into Logan. Logan needs to go. So I should go. But I don't want to go._

"Lost in thought again?" Kory asked over his shoulder with a smile before she leaned in to kiss his cheek. They had just gotten off the transport, and Gar and Raven had run ahead, but Kory held him back with a hand on his arm and the promise of kisses. She was looking a lot better now that her injuries were wrapped, she wasn't losing blood… and she'd had some painkillers, too.

Still, it was hard not to think about how hard she'd been hit on that mission, how badly he wanted to keep her safe, keep her _close_.

"Always," he replied easily, turning to steal a better kiss.

"You seem to do that a lot more lately," she said. "When we first met, I heard your thoughts more freely."

"Yeah, I know," Dick said, putting his hands at her waist and smiling a little more when she stole another kiss that got a little more involved than either of them had planned — but that was typical of both of them. They always ended up getting carried away. That was probably why they worked so well together.

"So, would you care to share your deep thoughts?"

Dick smiled and kissed her again. "I was just thinking about Logan."

"Oh?" Her eyes sparkled with hidden laughter. "Even when I'm right here?"

"Well, I definitely don't think about him when I'm kissing you. That's just…" He shuddered dramatically and couldn't stop his smile when he heard her laugh. He loved that sound. "I was just thinking the guy needs about ten vacations rolled into one."

"He very likely does," Kory agreed. "I think it's wonderful that you and your family do so much to look out for the people you care about."

"Family tradition, I guess," Dick said with an easy smile and a shrug.

"One that I definitely approve of," Kory agreed.

"Especially when I'm looking out for you, right?" Dick teased, his hands finding the edge of her uniform as he gently traced the line there.

"Definitely." She pulled him into another kiss that kept going until he was breathless and barely able to think of anything but her… and then she took his hand and started to walk inside.

The _last_ thing he was thinking of was keeping his appointment with Charles. He was thinking of following her to medical… and then maybe following her upstairs once she'd been okayed by the medical staff… that is, until they walked almost right into Charles' path, apparently after a session with Kate, who was walking down the hall in the other direction, teasing Clint mercilessly about something — or someone.

Dick had to smirk to himself when he heard her voice carrying down the hall: "I'm telling you, Clint — I _saw_ you with her, and I could be _blind_ and still tell you've been even more wrapped up with her than I am with Kurt."

"Katie Kate, _no one_ can be that wrapped up."

"Well, you _are_."

"Hey, post-mission kisses don't count. There's an adrenaline high when you come back from helping to take down Viper herself…"

"Sure, Clint."

Dick grinned at Kory and leaned over to steal a kiss. "Sounds like someone else in this place has good taste. Maybe we should step in and help them. We're pretty good at actually _acting_ on that taste."

"Playing matchmaker?" Kory lifted one eyebrow with a playful, teasing smile. "Maybe I will — while I wait for you." She tipped her head pointedly toward Charles, who seemed to be watching both interactions at once with a smile he couldn't quite hide.

"You need to get yourself checked out, Kory."

"Yes, and I expect you to come visit me once you're done," she agreed.

"I'm starting to suspect a setup here," Dick said, letting go of Kory to hold his hands up like he was being accused.

"Maybe I like knowing that you aren't in danger of losing yourself," Kory pointed out. She was still smiling at him gently, but her tone had changed… and when she was looking at him like that, Dick had to admit that he didn't actually have an argument against her. "Not even a mission with our group, not even a grave injury, can make me forget that you're not quite yourself."

"I'm fine," Dick said, though it was a little half-hearted when he had Kory looking at him like that and Charles watching the whole interaction with this knowing look that Dick honestly didn't know what to do with. "Okay, okay," he said, holding his hands up. "I know better than to argue when literally everyone I love is on the same page."

"And when we're just trying to take care of you," Kory said, reaching up to cup her hand against his cheek.

Dick smiled and turned his face to kiss her hand and then let his shoulders drop as he turned toward Charles. "So… I did say I'd come talk to you, didn't I?"

Charles nodded. "That was our arrangement."

Kory smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think I'll find Natasha," she said. "As I remember from her Games, _he_ was the one to confess his feelings. Maybe she needs to reciprocate."

"Maybe," Dick said with a quiet smirk. "Sometimes, we need a little nudge."

"You need neon lights as bright as the Capitol," Kory teased and then pulled him into another long and lingering kiss.

"Just like that?" Dick breathed out against her mouth.

"Yes," Kory said. "Obvious — and often."

Dick stood there for a long moment, breathing in everything about her, from the way she tasted to the way her hands felt to the feeling of her breath on his face. He _needed_ her. Deeply. And seeing her hurt on that mission had only reminded him of that. "Love you, Kory."

"I love you too."

Kory finally took a step away from him, though he couldn't help but laugh to himself when she sauntered away. Even though he knew she was his, even though they'd been together all this time… it was still so _deeply_ unfair that she could do that kind of thing, that she could make him lose his breath just by _moving_. Even when she was hurt! That wasn't allowed!

He finally remembered that he wasn't by himself and turned Charles' way — and then turned bright red when he saw how _deeply_ amused the old victor looked. "We're just…" Dick let the sentiment trail off, since he wasn't sure what he would _say_.

"Yes, you certainly are," Charles said with a muted smile, then gestured with one hand. "Let's find somewhere a little less public for our discussion, shall we?"

"You're the one running this circus," Dick said with a careless shrug.

Charles gave him a quiet smirk for that. "If that's what it takes to hold your attention," he replied quietly, then gestured for Dick to follow him to the room he'd just left with Kate. It smelled strongly of coffee after Kate had been there, which had Dick smiling to himself. Kate and Clint both seemed to always have coffee whenever he saw them, somehow.

Charles gestured for Dick to sit down, and Dick let out a breath as he closed the door behind him. "So, uh, mission went off relatively well," he said. "Got everyone back safe and sound, like I said, even if Kory had a… moment."

"I see that," Charles said mildly. "I'm glad to see _you_ back as well."

"Yeah, already died once. Don't plan to do it again until I'm old and gray and have, like, a couple dozen grandkids."

Charles seemed to smirk a little harder when he heard it. "That definitely seems like an admirable goal."

"Hey, Bruce _needs_ family. Have you _seen_ him with the kids at this place? Him and Alfred…" Dick gestured broadly. "It's a match made in heaven."

"And you intend to keep them in good supply," Charles said with a smile. "But … I think before you get to that point, you should probably address all that you've been through to this point. You've already made good progress … I simply want to make sure you keep making progress. It's so easy to backslide."

Dick tipped his head as he considered it. "Well, there's no psycho anymore, so I think that's a step in the right direction, sanity-wise."

"You have no idea how right you are," Charles replied with a smirk. "Somehow, it felt just as bad when we were stuck mentoring lunatics."

Dick pulled a spectacular face. "That's right. You had the lunatic last year that they brought back as a mutt. Sure _you_ don't need therapy after that?"

"Hank McCoy and I had a running chess game every year to see who'd be stuck with the crazy one."

"I'm pretty sure it's rigged," Dick said. "I mean, it was _obviously_ rigged this year, but still."

"It absolutely was," Charles said. "And not just your year. Most of the years before it as well."

"Kinda figured," Dick said. "I may not be the smartest in the family, but even I could pick up on the patterns. Too many kids that were a threat. I mean, even before you went public with it, it wasn't that well hidden."

"It really wasn't," Charles agreed. "But that's not what we're here for, Dick."

"Yeah, I know," Dick said, letting out a sigh that ended with him leaning further back into the chair. "I just… no offense, Charles — you're easy to talk to on most things — but how the heck are you supposed to _want_ to come in and say "hey, here's how some psychopaths messed with my head" and all that?"

"You said you spoke with Logan about this," Charles said. "Though I can't imagine him saying anything to you other than advising you to suck it up and move on." There was a ghost of a smile on Charles' face when he said it. "Is that what I need to do more of?"

"I dunno; maybe," Dick said, shrugging up to his ears. "Like I said: your circus. I'm just the trained monkey."

"Still, I'd appreciate it if you talked through your captivity. You all had different points of view, you all had different traumas as a result … and even if you feel as though you've already talked about it, considering the state of things, I'd feel better if someone a bit more … open was available for you to discuss it again should you find yourself in need." Charles sighed. "I fully expect you to have some repercussions from this. Bad dreams, PTSD, any number of anxiety disorders … all of that would be normal and entirely something you can overcome — If you have support."

"Yeah, well, here's the thing," Dick said slowly. "The last time we talked, I thought I was literally losing my mind — but it turns out Jack was in the base waiting for me to be apart from the others and start playing mind games, so… I mean… aside from a panic attack, I'm not… you know… that wasn't as bad as we thought."

"No, it wasn't," Charles agreed. "But your initial reaction to it absolutely was that bad. It doesn't matter that you ended up being right in your panic … you shouldn't have reacted so harshly. That's what I want to see you capable of avoiding in the future."

"Okay," Dick said slowly. "That… is admittedly very hard to argue with."

"So, if you don't mind," Charles said, gesturing openly. "You did agree to this, after all. Even if it was a last ditch effort to get your father off your back. You are a man of your word, aren't you?"

Dick crossed his arms. "That… wow. I get why Bruce pushed this. That's totally a move out of his book."

"I simply want to see the follow-through," Charles said, smirking crookedly. "It seems to be a sticking point in this district, and I honestly didn't realize it was that big of a drive."

"Hey, I know how to follow through," Dick defended, then paused. "Look, it's not my favorite thing to think about, especially because with Viper… it was about hurting Hel. Not to mention Kory and Logan."

"Mr. Grayson, I've watched Ophelia Sarkissian toy with people since she first showed up. I'm-well aware of how she's grown accustomed to playing games. There is nothing you can tell me that would surprise me."

But that… that felt like too much of a challenge for Dick to ignore. "Okay, well, try this on: I don't even remember what she did," Dick said. "I'd say 'not a clue', but I had plenty of clues, but still… one big, fat blank. That's what I've got for you." He kept his arms crossed as he shrugged. "So… I shouldn't be too hard a case."

"Do you think something happened?" Charles asked.

"I did," Dick admitted. "But that's what I talked to Logan about. See, I got to star in my very own hostage tape, so he knew what was going on when I got back."

"I saw the tape," Charles said.

"Oh." Dick's expression fell. "So… you know what I was worried about."

"I know that's the only way that woman could get a response out of someone," Charles said in an almost snooty tone.

"Yeah, I mean, look at Kory," Dick said with a smile he couldn't quite stop — grasping onto the one thing that he knew could make him smile instead of the topic at hand. "She's _way_ out of my league, and I know it. Crummy poison lady can't hold a candle."

"I'd like to point out that she disagrees with that assessment."

"She's also insane. And dead," Dick pointed out with a smirk.

Charles smirked. "I mean Kory."

"Oh." DIck shrugged. "Yeah, no, she doesn't have anything to worry about. I'm not letting her go for anything." He gave Charles a tight smile. "And besides, Logan said nothing happened that wasn't on-camera, seeing as I had my pants and everything. I mean, crude as it sounds."

"Yet I'm sure it's depressingly accurate." Charles leaned back in his chair, watching Dick for a long moment. "Do you still doubt that assessment?"

Dick paused. He didn't know what to do about the fact that he honestly felt like Charles could see right through him. "No," he said at last. "Logan seemed pretty sure."

"But are you?" Charles let out a breath. "I'm not arguing with Logan. Out of all of us here, he'd know better than anyone else. But … it's not about what he said. It's about what _you_ think."

Dick spent a long time thinking over his answer, though Charles was almost frustratingly patient with him. "I don't know," he admitted at last. "I know Logan told me what he went through, and I know the differences. But I remember everything leading up to that tape, and she wasn't _just_ acting that way on-camera."

"Then let's focus on the lead-up," Charles said.

Dick let out his breath. "I don't know. She was trying to get intel on SHIELD from Sin, but I swear, she couldn't stop _touching_ me." He shuddered when he thought about it.

Charles nodded. "And with Kory and your sister? How did she treat them?"

"Taunting Hel about a crush on Logan, treating Kory like she was just… a pretty face…"

"So she was finding what she thought were your weaknesses and preying on them," Charles said.

"More or less," Dick said. "But that's the problem. I know she was trying to get to Hel and Kory with me. Not just Logan. But that explains the show. Not… _me_." He gestured to himself.

"Would it bother you terribly if I told you that I strongly suspect that you personally had little to do with what she did?" Charles said. "She's always tormented good-looking, well-built young men. It's very likely that with her, the fact that her games would push a few buttons was only icing."

"I don't know if that makes me feel better or worse, to be honest," Dick said. "Am I a _type_ for women like that? Because it's not like this is the first time, either. I know I've heard the jokes about dying by kiss, but it's not all that funny, y'know?"

"I know," Charles said. "I can't speak as to what 'type' you might be, but I heard all of the jokes, all of the insinuations … and what you heard on base or between other ex-tributes doesn't hold a candle to what was said during the Games, in the Capitol. But none of that matters. What matters is how you see yourself."

"Okay, but now I'm stuck on being more than a little horrified about what the Capitol might've said," Dick said, holding both hands up in a 'time out' signal.

"Dick, stop deflecting."

Dick held his hands up. "Okay, okay. I just…" He paused. "I dunno…"

"Believe it or not, there were more important things aired while you were in the Games."

"Yeah, I'm not that self-conceited. I was only kissing Kory for half of it anyway," Dick said with a small smile.

"So what do you think of yourself? Do you believe what you've heard — or do you have your own take?"

"I'm a Grayson," Dick said with a shrug, then faltered. He would have been lying if he didn't admit that he'd been asking himself that very thing, because so much of who he was had been his _physicality_. His easy going jokes were still there, but everything that made him a _Grayson_... "I'm… I'm getting back to what I was, eventually," he added, belatedly.

"Then what does it matter?" Charles said. "If you don't want it to change who you are, you can learn to move beyond it."

"Me too," Dick admitted. "Even if Tahiti gave me a handicap. What kind of idiot builds an army of the undead with no muscle memory?" He made a face. "Come on. I've been a Flying Grayson my whole life — until monkeys with typewriters got involved!"

Charles smirked. "There's only so much they could do — particularly with those of you that were on a high-speed revival."

"I know the logistics. I'm just saying: I'm a performer. Of _course_ I care what people think. That's part of who I am."

Charles let out a sigh. "You don't want to know what they were saying."

Dick made a face. He'd been _trying_ to explain why he cared just as much about his public image as his self-image, but Charles had a knack for getting right back to what he _didn't_ want to talk about. "Not particulars. I think I'm smart enough to figure it out even if I'm not Bruce. I just meant ... it matters. To me. All of that… crap."

"Few of the people in the Capitol were disappointed with how well you were doing," Charles said, and Dick shuddered at the unspoken implication. "But beyond that, I won't fill you in."

"Alright."

For a long time, Charles let the silence ring between them. "So. What do you plan to do for your recovery?"

"Stick with the Titans," Dick said. He didn't even have to think about it. "Especially Kory." He smiled. "I meant what I said, you know. Give me a few years — and no Jack — and Bruce will have a family, y'know?" He didn't know why he was telling Charles this, but saying it out loud… it was almost like a promise to act on what he'd been feeling ever since the mission ended and he'd made sure Kory wasn't going to bleed out or anything.

Charles reached forward to rest his hand on Dick's arm. "You're doing well, Dick. Honestly."

"Thanks."

"But I don't want you to shut anyone out," Charles continued without missing a beat. "Something will likely shake loose at some point, and when it does, I hope you'll come speak to me before your father starts pushing you to do so."

Dick put a hand on his heart. "I promise, if I ever get kidnapped by an evil—"

"No," Charles said. "A valiant effort to deflect, though. Perhaps we should meet up twice a week _to start_."

"Hey!" Dick objected. "I'm not — I thought you agreed I'm doing well!"

"I did," Charles replied. "And then you tried to blow off any future discussions unless it was under threat of an evil … well. I try to keep my language civil."

"Okay, but you say things like that, and I like you — and then other times, you go all … Bruce on me," Dick grumbled with his arms crossed.

"Is that a bad thing? I thought you looked up to your father."

"I do," Dick said quickly.

"I won't tell him either way. Whatever we discuss stays between us. You know that."

"I don't want it to color your opinion of him," Dick said.

"You won't," Charles said, smiling warmly. "He has his own issues, I'm sure you're aware. Everyone does."

"You could write a book on him," Dick said dryly.

Charles chuckled at that. "If you like, I could make him take some therapy sessions as well." He shrugged openly. "After all, he can't insist on pushing you and your sister into therapy without doing so for himself."

"That would probably be good for him," Dick said. "He's smarter than I'll ever be, but he has _no_ emotional range. It's either 'I love you so much I have to push you into therapy' or 'I haven't spoken since last Wednesday' and no in between."

"Believe it or not," Charles said, "that seems to be an epidemic here. And anxiety is likely the biggest problem Seven has."

"Well, chalk up another few, then," Dick said. He gestured openly and _tried_ to give Charles a look that screamed 'mental health'... not that he knew what that looked like. "Come on, Charles. I'm alright. Bruce is even mostly alright. Logan's the one that needs two sessions a week!"

"Logan needs two sessions a day," Charles said dryly.

"No kidding," Dick said. He leaned back slightly. "Look. I'm a work in progress. I know I am. Getting back my acrobatics, coming back from what Viper may or may not have done, coming back from the Games… But I'm not suicidal. And Logan …"

Charles waited for Dick to finish, not willing to cross that line himself.

"Logan has been there for a long time," Dick said at last. "When I came back, I could see it. I mean, at first, I was more upset for myself and the dying and coming back without my talents, you know, but… he hasn't been the same. For a long time now."

"No, he hasn't," Charles agreed. "He's been that way since he won. At least."

"And worse since he became director," Dick said. "If he was feeling that way when he was mentoring me, it wasn't as obvious as it is now." He leaned forward. "I know I'm a mess, and I know I have a ways to go before I stop dreaming about what did and could have happened, but Charles, I really agreed to come because I knew I couldn't ask Logan to get help if I didn't do it."

"And you think you can get him to now?" Charles asked, looking suddenly more interested. "I've been trying to talk to him since the beginning. The most I ever got him to do was play chess."

"I think at least I won't feel like a hypocrite when I do tell him he needs help," Dick said.

"Dick, your potential to help others is positively endless. And I will _always_ encourage you to do so. But … if there is one flaw that you could please not hold onto … that you learned from your father…. Please, take care of yourself as well."

Dick was _going_ to reply with something flippant, but when Charles looked perfectly serious, he let out a breath. "I will," he said at last. "And if you don't trust me, trust Kory. She's the one that has to put up with the cold sweats; I think she'll keep pushing me this way."

"I trust you," Charles said. "And though I appreciate her knowing where to send you, this whole process is much smoother if you choose to come on your own."

"No promises on that front, Charles. I never have liked feeling anything but invincible," Dick said with a wry smile. "Hard to be a trapeze artist if you entertain the possibility of gravity."

"You'll be fine, Dick. Just don't get too far ahead of yourself, please," Charles said finally. "And if you're feeling brave, feel free to inform Logan that you think he needs time too — where he _doesn't_ pretend to sleep for the whole session."

"That was an option?" Dick burst into a laugh. "I should have told him I was coming here!"

"Do you think he would have given up his own favorite trick?" Charles asked with a sparkle in his eyes.

"Okay, to be fair, I can do serious puppy dog eyes, and he _did_ tell me about Viper…"

"Then he told you more than he's told others," Charles said. "I only know what Viper did due to the incredibly colorful retelling that Peter Quill gave me when it was going on."

"Heard that part of the story too," Dick said. "It's a club I don't enjoy being in."

"Yes, well, he's in a few clubs like that — and no one talks about it," Charles said. "The other victors actually _pretend_ to ask for help, though."

"Well, I'll try talking to him," Dick promised. "And I know Hel and Bruce are on him too. Hopefully, that cute SHIELD agent too ... to be honest, I think she'd be better than any of us, just speaking from experience with me and Kory."

"Or monumentally bad," Charles said. "He's got a complex for _that_ too."

"Yeah. I know. I'm trying to look out for him. I am."

"Just don't get too many projects at once," Charles said before he waved him off. "Go on. Seek some therapy with your sweetheart."

Dick grinned outright. "Hey, she's got a project too. She's going to find Natasha and get working on the 'problem' with Clint waiting on her to get in gear. I love that woman, you know?"

"I've noticed, yes," Charles laughed. "And Dick, I'll tell your father that we're talking. There's no reason for him to push when you need to come to me on your own, in your own time."

"I would greatly appreciate that," Dick said fervently.

"I'll tell him it will be detrimental to your recovery for him to push."

"Wow, where were you my whole life?" Dick laughed as he headed for the door. "I need to keep you in my pocket!" When Charles laughed, Dick grinned a little wider and headed off to find Kory.

For a little more _therapy_.


	60. Chapter 60: Vital Signs

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're back with another update, this time checking on the lovely Sin :D**

 **Thanks to the writers who reviewed as well as to our rock stars, Slim Summers2002 and TheRaspberryVigilante41, for reviewing both the last chapter and the one before it. You guys keep us going!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty- Vital Signs**

 **Sinthea Schmidt, formerly of District Six**

 **The Howlett Estate**

 **Written by Silmarilz1701**

* * *

"The question is not how to get cured, but how to live."  
\- Joseph Conrad

* * *

Every time she woke up, Sinthea heard that she was alive. A gentle droning of her vital signs greeted her ears constantly. _Beep. Beep. Beep._ It never stopped. She started hearing it in her sleep, too. _Beep. Beep. Beep._ Consistent, strong. It sounded like the heartbeat it signified. Her heartbeat. Her life.

Sinthea rolled her head to the side, pushing her red hair out of her face with her cheek. The medical instrument hooked up to her body stood as usual, showing her pulse. Sin supposed she should be thankful that it showed she was alive.

But damn if she didn't want to smash it to pieces. She knew she was alive without some stupid machine letting off infernal beeps every second. Point nine seconds, to be precise. Sin glared at the machine, hoping she could destroy it with sheer force of will. She couldn't.

With a huff, she turned the opposite way. A wall with a frankly ridiculous number of books on it greeted her. It annoyed her to no end that her choices were to stare at a door to unreachable freedom, a pristine bookshelf, and a psychotic machine. She'd have to talk to Logan about that.

Sin supposed she should've been more grateful that she'd ended up back in the Howlett household. Logan hadn't needed to have her rescued. Dick, Kory, Helena were all special to him. Sin was extra.

" _Then again_ ," she thought with a smirk, " _I did kill the head of Hydra."_

Memories of staring down the barrel of her gun at the burned flesh of her father's head, of pulling the trigger, flooded in. She remembered the blood pouring from the dime-sized hole in his hideous red skull.

" _But what did it cost?"_ came an unbidden inner voice.

Crossbones had died because of her arrogance. She'd replayed the scenario over and over in her mind's eye, reliving what had happened under Viper's watch. If she had taken the shot right away, if she had shut her mouth and pulled the trigger without the boasting, her father wouldn't have had time to shoot her best friend. He wouldn't have shot the only person she had ever loved. Sin had clawed her way through death to see him again. They'd gotten less than a day together. And then Viper...

Sinthea glanced down at her hands, both in casts. Her eyes narrowed in anger, but unbidden tears filled them. It had cost not only her love but her life. No matter what the evil medical machine said with its heartbeat beeps, her life was over. Viper had seen to that.

The doctors had told her she would be able to move her fingers again someday, but holding a gun would be nearly impossible. Viper had shattered the bones in each finger but left the rest of her body intact.

Her left hand had been less injured. The doctors didn't think there was any permanent nerve damage there. They said to give it a year. They assured her she'd be able to take care of herself at least. She'd be able to eat and clothe herself.

Sin scoffed out loud, willing her tears away as she looked at the door to unattainable freedom. Being able to clothe herself was little comfort when her entire purpose, being a force so fierce that men trembled before her, had ended brutally. Instead, she had to lie in the Howlett Estate as an invalid, recovering from trauma, they told her.

She wanted out. She wanted the beeping to stop. She wanted her life back.

To her surprise, the door opened as she stared at it. For a moment, she thought magic was real. But, actually, before her stood Logan. She huffed. "How's Kate?"

"Great," Logan said, his hands in his front pockets as he leaned in the doorway. "She's probably hidin' under a blanket suckin' down coffee with Kurt."

Sin rolled her eyes but laughed. "Well good for her. She deserves it. And Nat?"

"Hidin' under a blanket suckin' down coffee with that blond idiot that follows her around." Logan shrugged. "It's a trend."

With a shrug, Sin looked behind him toward the hall. "Big house. Plenty of hiding places. I'm not surprised. Dick and Kory are probably doing the same."

"Somehow, I doubt they're suckin' down coffee."

"Ah, no. They're too eager for that. Don't have the idea of personal space." Then, she paused. "Cut to the chase, Logan. Why are you here?"

"I wanna know what you want to do next," Logan said.

"Next?" Sin raised her eyebrow in surprise. With a frown, she raised her heavy-bandaged hands. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm out of commission because of that freak snake woman."

Logan narrowed his eyes and tipped his head slightly. "And I don't think for a second that's all you're good for."

She didn't respond for a long time. It hadn't really occurred to her to start thinking of options beyond fighting. She had allowed herself some time to wallow in self pity. Now, she had to make a choice: Did she let herself stay out of commission, or could she do more?

Logan cut into her thoughts as he gestured one-handed at he room at large. "Mind if I come in or would you rather I stuck to the doorway?"

She made a face. "Fine. You can come in."

Logan barely looked her way as he made his way over to the nearest chair and dropped into it, looking a lot more worn now that he wasn't entirely upright.

"You look like shit," Sin told him.

"No kiddin'," he agreed. "You just now figurin' that out?"

Sinthea rolled her eyes. "To be fair, I probably look as bad as you, and I've had bigger things on my mind than worrying about your health."

"Nah, you're fine," he said with a little wave. "Lil' bedhead never hurt anyone."

"Right." She was unconvinced. "Anyway, what are the options? I can't fight. I can't hold a gun, at least. Maybe I could run point on strategy…" She trailed off. "Though to be honest, I'm getting tired of this charade of working for people."

Logan watched her for a long moment without any comment — helpful or otherwise. "To be honest, I don't trust you to dive into SHIELD anyhow."

"Fair." She didn't object. "I came to you for Kate's sake. I'm not here to help you win the war. I killed the Skull, though; that's got to be worth something to you."

"And I appreciate that you came to back up your friend more than I give a damn about the Skull. You earned that kill years ago — had nothin' to do with the war."

She didn't respond right away. "Damn right," she finally whispered. Then, she paused again before continuing, "Right, then. Guess I'm out for the time being. But… maybe I could help somewhere."

"I don't think that you're _out_." Logan kept watching her as she seemed more uncomfortable the longer the quiet chat went on.

"Got any grand ideas, Director?" she teased — though with a bit of anger.

"Maybe," Logan said, still unblinking.

Sin stared at him. She huffed. "Okay, Logan. What is your idea: I'm listening."

He cleared his throat and kicked his feet up on the chair across from himself. "Tasha told me the kind of crap you girls had to put up with on the other side. Both her and Kate... they've got similar garbage in their heads, you know." A muscle in his jaw tightened for a moment. "And I don't like it."

"Girls in the districts, at least in Six, are often left to fend for themselves. We do whatever it takes. The weak perish, the strong survive, if you will." She glared. "It's horrible."

Logan nodded at that. "It's not right. And it's a problem across the board," Logan agreed. "Every district has the same trouble to some degree or another, and I'll be honest: it pisses me off."

Sin clenched her jaw. It surprised her to hear it from Logan, but she wasn't sure how genuine he was. Then again, she had seen the way he'd treated Kate and Natasha, and he had always been kind. She nodded. "So. What are we going to do about it?"

Logan let out a breath as he clearly thought it over. "That's just it. I don't know. You have a helluva way of gettin' the girls to follow your lead, but I don't know how power hungry you might be once you get it in your hands."

She paused. "I appreciate the frankness, you know. And I do enjoy giving orders. But I've seen power now. I've seen Viper up close; I've seen the Skull up close. I don't want to be like them. They're evil, as you well know." She stared at him pointedly. "I'm good at leading. I know I am. Let me lead. Let me save these girls." She let out a deep breath. "Please, Logan. And you know I don't say 'please'."

"I want you to heal up," Logan said. "And I'd like for you to spend some time with one of our top agents to come up with a program to save these girls." He held up a hand. "Don't worry; I'm not gonna put you with some pain in the ass guy without clue one as to what's goin' on. But until I can trust you — until _SHIELD_ can trust you — you're gonna need some oversight."

Sinthea clenched her jaw but nodded. "Fine. I'll do it your way. Consider it a gesture of goodwill."

"I want you to be alright with everything," Logan said. "And while you're here, you need to know: you've got the same rights as anyone else. I don't care that you were stuck in Hydra. I don't buy for a minute that it was something you really _wanted_."

Her expression fell. "I did what I did to survive."

"And now you don't have to," Logan said. "You can do more than just survive."

Sinthea nodded, releasing a deep breath. She looked through the open doorway again. "It's been four days. That means I can leave the room soon, right? Will there be armed guards at every turn?" She looked at him with a smile.

Logan smirked at that. "There are agents roamin' the halls, but honestly, most of 'em don't need weapons. I'll make sure you get a room near Tasha and Kate."

"Just make sure there's no infernal beeping machine."

"Not allowed in that wing," he said with a smirk. "Once you're feelin' a little more feisty, I'll introduce you to Agent May."

"Agent May?" Sin looked at him skeptically. "Who's that?"

Logan smirked. "She's got a rep," he said, nodding his head. "And she gets ticked off if you call 'er 'The Cavalry' to her face."

Sin bit her tongue with a smirk. "Oh. Her."

"She's a blast," Logan said, smirking a little more crookedly.

"Who else is around here? People that I would know?"

"Who're you lookin' for?" Logan asked.

She scoffed. "I'm not looking for anyone. I'm just curious if people from our Games are around. Bruce, Peter…"

"Yes on both counts," Logan said. "Stark too."

Sinthea groaned audibly. "Couldn't have been lucky there, could I? Well, I suppose I owe him a conversation."

"He's alright," Logan said with a shrug. "Has a tendency to see the potential before he sees the person, though."

"So what you're saying is: if I see him, be aware he may try to _fix_ me?" she asked curiously.

"No. Unless you got levers, gears, an' wires, you're safe."

"Good."

"Charlie, though …" Logan tipped his head again. "He'll try to fix you. And it's over my head to stop him from pesterin' anyone."

Sin nodded. "He was working with Kate, right?" She laughed. "Don't let him near me."

"He worked with Kate, and if he takes an interest, it's outta my hands."

Sinthea nodded. Then, she cocked an eyebrow, noticing a little girl with blonde hair at the entrance to her room. The girl's eyes were narrowed in a deep scowl, and in her arms was a basket of kittens. Sinthea turned to Logan in confusion. "Children?"

"What?" Logan said, putting his feet back on the floor. "You think the only people I care about are in SHIELD?"

"Okay, okay." She gestured with her bandaged left hand. "Geez."

"Who are _you_?" The little blonde asked with a slight lisp as she walked over to stand in front of Logan, still glaring at Sin.

"Sinthea, but most people call me Sin." She tried to sit up further.

"Why? Are you _bad_?" the little blonde asked, still glaring at her.

"No it's — it's just a nickname…" Sinthea looked at Logan in confusion.

"It sounds like a nickname for someone _bad_ ," the girl said in an accusatory tone.

Sin smiled wickedly. "And if I am bad? What if I decide to get out of bed and take your cats in the middle of the night?"

"Then I'm gonna have to break your nose like Logan showed me," she said, sticking her chin up.

"Oh?" Sinthea licked her lips with a smile. "Logan? Teaching little girls how to defend themselves? You really do care." She turned back to the girl in amusement. "Well, what's your name? I like to know the name of the person who beats me up."

When the blonde kept glaring at her, Logan spoke up. "Go on, little darlin'. She's alright."

The girl looked over her shoulder at Logan and let her shoulders drop before she straightened up and took a step forward with one hand outstretched. " _I'm_ Elsie-Dee."

"Well, Elsie-Dee, you ever break someone's nose?"

"Yep," she said, nodding her head hard enough her pigtails bounced.

"Elsie here had a little trouble when the revolution kicked off. She was lookin' for her cat and a Sentinel tried to snatch her," Logan explained. " _Tried_."

Sinthea looked at her in amazement. "Nice work. Someday maybe you can learn some more moves. I learned lots of moves to take down big mean guys." She looked at the girl's kittens. "I like your basket of cats."

"Do you want one?" Elsie asked.

Sinthea's eyes widened. "Me?"

"Uh-huh," Elsie said. "I still got my cat that Logan _saved_ for me when I was _real little_ an' the staff doesn't get mad if you gots pets."

"Uh," Sinthea paused. "Uh, yeah. Sure." She had always wanted a cat back in Six as a child. They were fierce, like stories of ancient lions.

Elsie didn't wait for Sin to make a move before she dropped the basket on her lap heavily. "They're all real nice, an' they gots extra toes on their front feet." She blew a strand of blonde hair out of her face. "Go on. You can pet 'em."

Sinthea locked gazes with Elsie before looking down at the kittens. They scrambled to get out of the basket, stumbling over each other and over the yellow brown weave. The first one out was a red tabby, a boy. The second was white, and the third, the one that immediately caught Sin's eyes, was entirely black. She lifted her covered hands and glared at the bandages as she wanted to pet them.

"Here, let me help," Elsie Dee said, entirely ignoring any semblance of personal space to climb halfway up the bed and then shove the black kitten under Sin's chin. "You can still snuggle him."

Sin froze, but the warmth of the kitten made her smile. She let out a tiny laugh as the cat sat under her chin in the crook of the pillow. His paws began to knead into her shoulder and neck, and she laughed again. "He's so little!"

"Nuh-uh," Elsie said, her hands on her hips. "He's just _a baby_. He'll get bigger."

"Good." Sin nodded at Elsie. "Because he's gonna be fierce, just like you and me and Natasha and Kate."

Elsie nodded once in agreement and then scrambled off the bed with the white kitten to climb up and sit with Logan, _insisting_ that he hold her kitten as she started to tell them both about all of the kittens in the basket, entirely comfortable with him.

Sin made eye contact with Logan and shook her head a tiny bit before turning back to the little kitten on her shoulder. She needed a name for it. It was black, just like the flag she had always played with when Crossbones came over. It, no… he. He had some white on his ears, too. It reminded her of the Jolly Roger….

"Roger," Sin murmured. "Your name's Roger."

Both Logan and Elsie were watching Sin when she spoke, but it was Elsie that spoke up. "So you wanna keep 'im? Because that's kinda a _dumb name_ for a cat."

"Hey," Logan said as he wrapped his arm around her middle. "Be nice."

Sinthea huffed a single, unamused laugh. "Yeah. I'll keep him. And it's not a dumb name. It's a perfectly District _Six_ name."

"Well…." Elsie drawled out, not to be slowed down even with Logan's quiet reminder. "This is District _Se-ven._ And my cat's name is Tippy cause she's got a white tip on the end of her tail. Which is waaay cooler than _Roger_. That sounds like someone who eats boogers."

"Damnit, Elsie," Logan said, one hand over his eyes.

Sin rolled her eyes. "Elsie-Dee, _Miss_ Elsie-Dee, your cat has a fabulous name. But mine is better." She winked at Logan.

Elsie stared at her blankly for a moment before she rolled her eyes _hard_. "Whatever. You're weird."

Sinthea laughed. She closed her eyes for a moment and let the purring of Roger drown out the beeping of the machine. At least the kitten made it manageable. And a purring kitten was a much better reminder of life than a heartbeat machine.

"Come find me when you're ready to talk," Logan said as he got up, still holding Elsie Dee with one arm as she started to laugh at being dangled.

She nodded with a tiny smile at Elsie. "I will. And… and thank you, Logan. For Kate, and for Nat, and for this."

Logan shrugged lightly and gave her a crooked smirk. "It's my job, right?"

"True." Sinthea watched them leave with a tiny wave of her hand. "And," she called after them, "leave the door open this time!" She breathed a sigh of relief when they did so.

Suddenly, unattainable freedom seemed slightly more attainable. With Logan and the spitfire Elsie-Dee gone, Sin let herself mold into the now sleeping kitten that sat on her shoulder in the crook of her neck. As she breathed out of her nose, it tickled Roger, and he flicked his ears across her cheek. Sin smiled.

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._ The machine droned on. Just like her life. She would keep going. She had achieved what she'd set out to achieve: her father was dead; she commanded respect. Even Logan had some degree of trust with her. There was at least enough trust to not lock her in the recovery room for the remainder of the war.

And maybe, just maybe, she'd be able to help the girls like Elsie-Dee. Though Logan had clearly done his part to help Elsie-Dee herself, there were countless others in organizations like the Red Room of District Two where girls were taken advantage of. And Sinthea could help them. She could help them despite her injuries.

Sin looked down at the bandages on her hands. Game-changing. But perhaps not life-ending. She had to remind herself that.


	61. Chapter 61: Shuri You Jest

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We love having y'all on board, and we're thrilled to bring Ororo Munroe and InDeepDarkWood back on the scene.**

 **Thanks as always to our lovely and supportive writers and to Slim Summers2002 for rockin' the reviews.**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-One - Shuri You Jest**

 **Ororo Munroe, formerly of District Eleven**

 **The Borderlands**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _This is my family. I found it all on my own. It's little, and broken, but still good. Yeah. Still good." –_ Stitch

* * *

Ororo felt like she had spent her whole life in one mode of transportation or another rather than on her feet. _When had_ that _happened?_ she asked herself, leaning back in the chair, securely strapped as the helicarrier took off. She was an old hand at buckling herself in with the belts. _Steve would be so proud,_ she thought dryly, feeling the vibrations and imagining the wind on her face, despite everything being securely sealed.

 _It happened on the train,_ she decided to herself. Before she'd been Reaped, she didn't think she'd ever been in a wheeled vehicle, bicycles not included, though even that was only an occasional occurrence. She felt so…. She felt like a Capitolite now, bustling around on trains and helicarriers and road ramblers. It was not the life she had expected to lead, though it was not like she imagined her life to be very long.

"Technically, it wasn't," she said to herself, twisting around to watch the seas of Four swallowed up in cloud coverage. She hoped it wasn't the last time she would be in Four. She liked the district, liked their customs and their dances. She especially liked their food. _Maybe they can sell fish to Eleven now,_ she thought. It was a brave new world, after all.

"What wasn't?" Forge asked beside her, turning to face the direction she was staring but looking at her in confusion when he only saw clouds.

"I was just thinking about my life before, and how I've gotten used to being in a transport like this," Ororo replied, unbuckling her belt as the transport leveled out. This one was a little bigger than the one she'd been in with Steve during their time in Five.

 _Four is better than Five,_ she decided.

"Speak for yourself," Forge muttered, keeping his belt fastened. "I like my feet on the ground. It's better to control your life when you keep your head out of the clouds."

"I bet you'd love it if you knew how it worked," Ororo countered, putting a hand on her hip and waving toward the front, where the cockpit was up a short flight of stairs. "You know, you could _ask_ her; she's pretty nice, just not very chatty. I bet _she'd_ like having someone to explain her job to. I bet it gets lonely."

Ororo didn't know who their pilot was, or if she had a co-pilot, or if she knew how to repair the helicarrier if it were damaged — something Forge was likely to ask — but she had his interest piqued. So, despite his nerves, he unbuckled his belt and slowly made his way over to the stairs.

"If I fall because of turbulence, I'm blaming you," he told her.

Ororo watched him go, but she heard Shuri snickering across the cabin, then returning quickly to her conversation with T'Challa when Ororo looked over with narrowed eyes.

"I'd blame me too," Ororo said in their direction, and Shuri outright laughed that time. Ororo sighed to herself, stretching out a bit and then peering out the window once more. Every so often, a flash of black would appear in the clouds; Diana had been true to her word, and the second transport had enough warriors to bolster Eleven's ranks. It also held enough tension in its cabins as well, but Ororo thought that would fade with time. They had worked together in battle, and in rebuilding. They could work together in a new district too.

Still, she was glad not to be part of the tension and equally glad Arthur Curry had suggested — or rather, _insisted_ — that the weapons they were sending to Eleven were to be stored in the lower part of the helicarrier, lest _someone_ cause a civil war mid-air.

Ororo hoped that the warriors from Four would be pleasantly surprised with the materials they had to work with in Eleven. Her district was filled with gardeners and orchard workers, but they also mined vibranium, and the tools made from the metal were stronger than any she had seen in Four.

She stepped over to where Shuri and T'Challa were talking, and T'Challa broke into a smile as she approached. "Shuri was just telling me of her big plans for monitoring the borderlands," he informed her. "I offered her some paper, but apparently, SHIELD equipment is superior."

"Brother, there is a time and place for paper and pen," Shuri said impatiently, as though they had bickered about this countless times before. "But when life gives you high-tech equipment, you make high-tech blueprints. Besides, I don't even have a drafting table to work with even if I _had_ paper and pencil. This is better."

"Opportunity is not a lengthy visitor," Ororo said in agreement.

"Is this what it feels like to have two sisters?" T'Challa asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Come on, brother," Shuri said, giving him a playful shove, her eyes twinkling at Ororo. "Get used to it."

Ororo felt a mix of emotions at T'Challa's words. She smiled at Shuri, but it was forced and fell after a moment.

 _Sister._ She was a sister to many. No, that wasn't correct. She _had_ been a sister to many, but that was before she died, before she rode around on helicarriers, before she went to meetings with leaders of districts. Now, all she had was Jericho, waiting for her back in Eleven. Was it possible to have a new family, new siblings?

"Ororo, are you alright? You have gone pale," T'Challa said, his voice etched with concern, breaking her out of her stupor.

She shook her head, clearing her mind, and gave him an actual smile again, leaning toward Shuri's tablet. "I'm fine. Altitude, probably," she said, waving him off. "What sort of monitoring are you thinking of doing, Shuri?"

"Well," Shuri began as she tapped her fingers on the tablet. "Do you remember in your Games, when Tony Stark and Bruce Banner and that whole group were all one, big happy family?"

"No," T'Challa said. "I believe I was dead."

"I think I was too," Ororo confessed, scratching her head.

"Ah, _not_ quite yet, you weren't … but you weren't with them at any rate," Shuri chuckled away the potential for awkwardness. "Any-way, they rigged up some early warning systems with the electronics that were on hand. Is Tony still alive, T'Challa? I think it would be great to meet him, see if he knows some basics. I am sure I would have time to teach—"

"Shuri," T'Challa said gently, cutting her off mid-stream.

"Of course. Probably some other time. Anyway, I want to use something similar to what he did — and how the Capitol kept track of all of you while you were in the Games." Shuri rolled her eyes at her own words. "Now, obviously we cannot put trackers in every single person's arms, since that would be crazy, and Hydra probably would not be open to making our life easier like that, but there are some notes in SHIELD's database about DWARFs that I can make a lot better and more user-friendly." She paused for a brief moment, her gaze flitting over the words as she brought up a new tab. "Hey! Lucky us; there are some prototypes on _this helicarrier_. That is so convenient!"

"Isn't that… Isn't it a bit too much like the Capitol?" Ororo asked as Shuri swiped the tablet, bringing up a new image of a compact drone. "Won't it seem like T'Challa is… spying?"

Shuri looked up, confused. "Why would they think it is spying when we are the ones doing it?"

"We've given people their freedom, Shuri," Ororo said. "If you do this, they'll think they're trading in one bad situation for another." T'Challa was nodding at her words but held his tongue as Shuri looked crestfallen.

"I just want to help make it easier for people. This seemed more acceptable than creating an invisible shield around Eleven," Shuri explained, swiping up to show some hand-drawn plans involving star-shaped units that would make such a shield.

"I think _that_ would be a fantastic idea," T'Challa said encouragingly. "Little sister, you should go with your instinct, like our father taught you. You sell yourself short if you think you cannot do this."

Shuri set her face determinedly, tilting her head up and flashing her brother a smile, before settling in to work on her more elaborate dome schematics.

" **Ororo Munroe.** " Ororo glanced up as the intercom in the main cabin crackled. " **This is your pilot, Agent Brand. We have an incoming message with your codename.** "

Ororo barely had time to note that Forge didn't seem to be enthusiastically gushing over the cockpit on the other end of the intercom while Brand spoke when it crackled into life again with the message:

" **Storm? Storm, do you read me?** "

"I recognize that voice!" Ororo shouted. "Patch it through!"

" **I've opened the channel** ," Agent Brand announced, and Ororo was practically leaping with excitement.

"Steve! _Steve!_ _STEVE!_ " she bellowed, bouncing in place even though she knew he couldn't see her, but she had to do it, because Steve Rogers was a _live,_ and he had just spoken to her.

" **Ro! You're there! I'm glad it's you.** "

"I thought you were dead!" she shouted toward the comm, with Shuri wincing beside her.

" **Ro, you don't have to yell; the helicarriers have good mic reception** ," Steve responded, his voice a little breathless with a chuckle. " **I've got a real good reason for not checking in sooner** —"

"You _better_ have a good reason," Ororo said, in a lower voice and with slightly gritted teeth. "You could have checked in with someone and maybe told them that you were _alive_."

"You tell him, girl," Shuri interjected, and then, in a lower voice, she whispered to T'Challa, "Who are we talking to?"

T'Challa frowned her way and quietly tried to shush her as the comm lit up again.

" **Ro, I've got Bucky.** "

Just like that, Ororo's anger at her friend dissipated and was replaced by a loud whoop. This time, she did leap up and down in the cabin, punching her fist in the air.

" **We're pretty beat up, but I'm going to get him the help he needs.** "

"I'm so happy for you, Steve," Ororo said, and she meant it. She knew what it was like to have a best friend, she knew what it was like to be taken away from them, and she knew what it was like to be reunited.

" **Not all good news, though. His handler got away. Our tracers say she's heading your way, through the wastelands.** " There was a pause; the comms buzzed. " **We need to get help for Bucky, but this woman needs to be taken down. Her codename is Queen Bee. Or maybe that's her real name. I don't know, but you need to stop her.** "

"Bee?" T'Challa asked, looking as though all the blood had drained from his face.

"Was that not...?" Shuri trailed off as T'Challa nodded in confirmation.

Ororo's teeth clenched further. "We know who she is, Steve. She was once T'Challa's handler. Well, one of them."

" **We can't give you an accurate location to go by,** " Steve said. " **I know that's a lot of ground to cover.** " Ororo looked over at T'Challa and at Shuri, who was flexing her fingers and grinning. " **I can send what we have to your system. Hopefully, it's enough to go on.** "

"We _will_ do this, Steve," Ororo stated firmly, and Steve's laugh, light-hearted for the first time in so long, made her smile.

" **Boy, am I glad it was you on this helicarrier. I didn't believe it when the agent said so. I owe Kara when we get home.** " The comms crackled even more, and the rest of Steve's words were muffled.

"Steve, you're breaking up!" Ororo called. "We'll see each other again. You owe me, too!"

" **I'm sorry, Ororo; the line's gone dead.** " It was Agent Brand on the intercom. " **The details came through; they're being uploaded on the mainframe now.** "

Shuri was already working on the tablet, pulling out the files they needed, her gaze scanning them with the sharpness and speed that Ororo could only admire. "It looks like they caught her on the motion sensors leaving the district heading southeast, toward us," Shuri confirmed. "They are right. That is a lot of ground to cover between the districts." She brought up a new tab, a sprawling ordinance of the rough outline SHIELD had mapped of the borderlands. "She is injured, though, so she will be moving slower and avoiding difficult terrain. That rules out some places."

With deft fingers, Shuri highlighted parts of the map, zooming in a little closer to the areas still with glowing markers indicating the beacons. "Then, we also want areas that offer some coverage," she said to herself, removing more sections, "and the most direct route to safety and medical assistance." More areas lit up on the screen.

"That's still a pretty big area," Ororo said, and Shuri nodded.

"It is," she conceded, "but we have additional help that your friend Steve does not have."

"Warriors?" Ororo asked, perplexed.

"No," Shuri answered, letting out a little snort. "They need to continue on to Eleven and start work right away. No, we have DWARFs."

Ororo was about to say that that didn't seem to be very helpful when Shuri clicked a button on the tablet and rotated it ninety degrees. The screen went black for a moment, showing a wheel rotating in the middle, and then it lit up with an image of the back of the helicarrier's cargo area, with a smaller window in the corner of the tablet showing Shuri's deconstructed map.

The helicarrier opened the smaller exit door, and the image showed the path as the drone zoomed out into the sky, a small black box at its periphery. "Let us hope the maker of these DWARFs used modern coding — or very condensed instructions," Shuri muttered as the DWARF she was controlling wobbled in the wind, then zipped away. Her little map showed two blips moving in opposite directions of each other, heading downward until the ground became more than just an indistinct feature. "These things can move very fast. I like it."

"What are you doing?" Ororo asked, watching as Shuri's gaze never once wavered from the screen as she inputted a series of commands.

"This Fitz person has put an echolocation setting into his DWARFs. It was probably to find wayward tributes or something," Shuri explained. "If just one DWARF is using it, I can get distance, but there no way to pinpoint where the sound waves are hitting living things."

"But if you use two DWARFs..." T'Challa filled in, and Shuri nodded enthusiastically.

"Exactly. I have made the area small enough to be workable for these prototypes to — _success!_ " Her exclamation was in Wakandan, and T'Challa and Ororo both swung their heads toward the map. "Agent Brand!" Shuri called out. "Put these coordinates in!"

* * *

Ororo had expected the helicarrier to land almost immediately after Shuri's announcement, but she was mistaken in how quickly the DWARFs had maneuvered themselves away. It was an agonizingly slow wait as Agent Brand adjusted the course and dropped their altitude. Forge had come back to sit with Ororo, no longer trusting the helicarrier's stability now that they were losing altitude so quickly.

"Be ready to fight," T'Challa said tightly as Ororo pulled her bo staff from the underneath compartment and the wheels of the helicarrier touched the ground. "Queen Bee is a formidable foe, even if she is injured."

"Never underestimate a tracker jacker," Forge agreed as he unbuckled himself and reached for his own weapons. His hands were steady as he holstered the icer on one side and the knife on the other.

"Especially a queen," Shuri added, nodding grimly. A baton was clipped to her side; her spear was on her back. "The DWARFs should not be more than a couple hundred yards out."

The helicarrier door opened, and all four fighters stalked slowly out, the whir and buzz of the propellers slowing down as they moved away from the transport. " **If you need backup, I can radio for help** ," Agent Brand said in their ears. Ororo nodded at the words, even if Brand couldn't see her.

"We will get more ground covered if we split up and fan out," T'Challa said. "Forge, come with me. Shuri and Ororo, move north." Ororo headed in the direction T'Challa had pointed, with Shuri level with her.

"I probably should have brought a DWARF," Shuri lamented over the buzzing noise while they walked. "It does not feel like we are moving anywhere with this buzzing." Ororo let out a little sigh of agreement, wondering why Brand was keeping the helicarrier on now that they had landed. The video footage had only shown Queen Bee making an escape. It seemed unlikely that she would already have reached assistance, so they wouldn't need to chase her down.

"We'll find her soon," Ororo responded, swatting away an insect as it hovered around her. Another took its place, buzzing around her face and moving out of reach when she swung for it. _We're not even in Eleven's borders yet, and the insects continue to follow us,_ she thought with a grumble.

Shuri glanced Ororo's way as her persistent insect continued to harass her. As she swatted yet again, Shuri reached out at the same time, her quick hand enveloping the insect with a practiced ease. She cupped her other hand around it and then created an opening to peek in.

"Just as I thought," she breathed out, her fingers tightening to a pinch around the insect as she held it out for Ororo to examine. "This is no natural irritation. Hello, Queenie."

The insect wasn't an insect at all. Its metallic body glinted in the light, and the little red beam that blinked in the front reminded Ororo of her artificial eye. _Key word 'artificial',_ she thought. The drone buzzed its wings furiously to escape Shuri's vice-like grip. Shuri turned it over. "It does not look like it can go too far from its queen," she mused. "I wonder: does it have a go-home feature?"

"Maybe it's like a normal bee," Ororo offered. "Shake it and see what happens. It might go home if it's hurt." Shuri shook it violently for a few moments. The buzzing intensified, and when she let it go, it zoomed in a circle and flew off to the left. "Why don't we follow?" Shuri nodded, gripping the baton as though to reassure herself it was still there. Ororo did the same with her bo, tapping it on her back as they followed the glinting drone.

After a moment, Ororo lifted her hand in a fist — she could hear the murmurings of an unmistakably female voice. "T'Challa," she whispered, tapping her comm in her ear. "We've found her. She is slightly west of our location."

" **We are coming** ," T'Challa responded in her ear, the sound of running boots picked up by the microphone. Ororo waved two fingers to one side, and Shuri nodded, creeping off that way, while Ororo moved in the other direction. She moved low; their target had fallen silent again save for the uneven steps she made, an obvious sign Steve's group had injured her.

Ororo spotted the woman within a few seconds, and it immediately became clear that a sneak attack was not necessary. The queen's hair was wild and partially matted to her face with what Ororo presumed was blood. Her glasses were still intact, though there were flecks of blood on the glass to obscure her vision. Her clothes were stained in various locations.

Ororo stepped out, and across the little clearing, Shuri did the same.

"Oh, my, what a surprise," the woman said. "I didn't see you coming at all." She flicked her head to one side, and with a loud buzz, a group of drones erupted from her pocket and flew toward Ororo and Shuri. Shuri snapped out her baton, a crackle of electricity coursing through it as she jabbed toward the insects.

Ororo flung her staff out in its shortened form, swinging toward the moving targets and nailing them to the ground with deft movements. These drones were a little different from the one they had caught, a fact she discovered as one evaded her move and landed on her. The limbs of the drone were actually sharp needles that punctured her arm immediately. She howled, swatting the drone to the ground and squashing it with her boot.

Ororo glanced toward Queen Bee. The woman was moving her arms in a graceful dance, and the drones followed her motions in perfect sync. Ororo's eyes narrowed as she batted at another drone, trying to analyze Queen Bee's motions and appearance.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Shuri in a glow of blue light; each mechanical insect she came into contact with sparked and went out of control. Ororo looked back to Bee, wincing as another drone stung her in the leg. There was a spark of blue from Shuri, followed by an almost imperceptible grimace from Bee, like when the speakers in Eleven's square had feedback.

 _Bug,_ Ororo thought, catching a glint of something inorganic in the woman's ear as her hair moved to one side briefly. Another drone made its mark on Ororo as she sprang toward Bee, her eyes narrowed. _Never underestimate a tracker jacker,_ she thought with a growl, flipping her staff into its extended position.

The bo staff swung wide and cracked across Bee's head, landing square on the earpiece and cracking it. The woman dropped to the ground, sprawled to one side, and Shuri leaped toward her, the baton forgotten in favor of her spear.

"Stop!" Ororo cried out. Shuri's spear came to an abrupt halt, hovering over the Hydra woman's chest. "It's over, Bee," Ororo announced. "You need to come with us."

There was a rustling behind her, and she glanced back to see T'Challa and Forge appear, panting slightly from their haste to join them. Ororo caught Bee's blue eyes sparkling with recognition at T'Challa, and her own eyes narrowed.

"T'Challa, my old friend," Bee said, her voice taking on a hint of a buzz. "So nice to see you looking so well. I just wish I looked my best." Her eyes glinted and gleamed as she held his gaze.

Ororo saw his jaw clench and his fist tighten against his side. "I thought you would be dead by now," T'Challa replied through gritted teeth.

"Oh, T'Challa, you're such a tease," Bee said with a laugh as she shuffled back from under Shuri's spear, settling on her elbows in a pose that somehow accentuated her body while also avoiding the tip of the spear. T'Challa's fists softened a little. "We had fun, the two of us. I was _much_ better than Whitehall to be around."

"I think you talk too much," Shuri snarled, but T'Challa held up his hand.

"Shuri, wait," he said.

Shuri looked at him in disbelief. "This woman took everything that made you _you_ , T'Challa. She broke you, and she has broken others too."

"She and Whitehall took it; that is true," he replied. "It is something I have been trying to regain since Wade rescued me."

"I knew you liked me best," Bee purred, her hands moving up and down her body and through her hair with vigor, clearly out of touch with the world around her. "I knew you liked me enough to let me live."

T'Challa tilted his chin up, and for the first time since Ororo had known him, she saw disgust on his face. Even in the Capitol, he had kept his expressions neutral.

"I like you the way I like an ant," T'Challa replied. "No, Bee; at least an ant is useful. But if I kill you now, it makes me judge, juror, and executioner. That is not me. I am not the man you made me."

"You might still die," Forge put in helpfully.

"Most likely," Ororo said in agreement. "People love a good show."

Shuri gestured with the spear, and slowly, Queen Bee rose to her feet, wobbling unsteadily. Ororo smirked at that, attributing her unsteadiness to what was likely a concussive blow. "Move."

T'Challa and Forge went ahead, with Ororo and Shuri bringing up the rear, though that meant Ororo had to put up with Bee's constant movement and the way she kept trying to accentuate her own curves.

"Can you stop doing that?" Ororo snapped.

Bee tilted her head back and shot her a withering glare. "You don't understand what it is to be beautiful."

"To be insane," Shuri muttered.

"Or that," Bee said. Her hands paused at her pocket, and she reached in. Ororo caught a flash of amber liquid on her fingers as she flicked them out — but not before the liquid splashed on the exposed flesh of T'Challa and Forge.

"Jacker venom!" Ororo yelled, pulling her balaclava from her neck up over her face to cover her skin.

"Ooo, much better than that!" Bee said with a cackle. "Tracker jacker venom just makes you _crazy_. _This_ makes you _listen_." She grinned widely, her tongue between her teeth. "T'Challa, my darling, _stop_."

T'Challa stopped.

"My favourite drone," Bee purred. "Better do away with the competition for your crown, _little prince_." Ororo froze for a moment as T'Challa turned, his face void of any emotion.

Forge seemed less affected by the venom, though he seemed locked in a war with himself, his feet shuffling on the ground. Ororo met his gaze, and he shook his head abruptly, reaching for his icer. He gave Ororo a pained, slightly glazed-looking smile as he turned it on himself and fired. He crumpled to the ground like a ragdoll.

"T'Challa," Shuri said, gripping her spear. T'Challa had one of his own, swinging it out in an offensive position. " _Brother_ ," she stated firmly as he crouched down, ready to defend herself.

A heartbeat later, T'Challa struck. Shuri barely raised her spear to block his attack. He spun away with ferocious grace and struck again, though Shuri was quick to keep up with him blow for blow.

"T'Challa, I do not want to hurt you," Shuri said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, but he wants to hurt _you_ ," Queen Bee purred, circling around the show as the siblings fought. Her tone turned more silky as she addressed T'Challa. "Don't you, T'Challa, _darling?_ Kill her, for me."

Ororo leaped across the distance with her staff as T'Challa went for what would have been a crushing chest blow against Shuri. Ororo blocked his spear, her bo staff bending with the force, but it held strong. With a roar of exertion, Storm managed to push him back and off-balance — for a moment.

"Shuri," Ororo huffed as T'Challa turned to face her again. "The queen controls the drones." Shuri's eyes lit up with understanding as Ororo swept her bo into T'Challa's side, able to deliver non-lethal blows, unlike Shuri with her sharp weapons. T'Challa staggered away, then dove at Ororo, his spear glancing off her jacket, tearing a large gash in the sleeve. She struck his arm with the staff, and his spear dropped.

Without missing a beat, T'Challa sprang at her, catching her at the midriff and collapsing on top of her in a cheap shot to tackle her to the ground. The two of them wrestled for a moment before T'Challa reached out to wrap his hands around Ororo's throat.

"Shuri," Ororo coughed out as T'Challa's grip tightened. Ororo's gaze found Shuri, who was stalking steadily toward the distracted queen while Bee watched the fight gleefully. "T'Challa," Ororo wheezed out as her vision started to swim. T'Challa responded by putting a knee on her chest.

" _STOP_!" Bee screeched, backtracking away from Shuri quickly when she realized she was in danger — but the command actually helped them, because T'Challa stopped as well.

Shuri raced the last few feet, launching herself with her lead foot to throw her spear into Queen Bee's chest. The woman toppled to the ground as Shuri landed in a crouch.

"There is a new queen," Shuri said coolly, straightening up.

Ororo scrabbled with her hands, reaching for the icer in T'Challa's belt, and yanked it out, firing at his chest. A pained look crossed her friend's face at the point-blank fire, and then he toppled off her.

Shuri bent down beside her, her spear still on guard, as Ororo twisted out from under T'Challa, gasping.

"Give… me… a… minute..." Ororo wheezed. "I'm...fine..."

"Take a moment or two," Shuri said, her voice sounding distant. "She is dead now." Her voice trembled. Ororo looked over at her; Shuri had a devastated expression on her features as she touched her brother's face. "She cannot hurt you anymore, brother."

"You saved me," Ororo croaked out, reaching out her hand, and Shuri came closer so Ororo could grasp Shuri's arm tightly in thanks.

"I did not know their faces did that when they die," Shuri answered. Ororo pulled Shuri down beside her, enveloping her in a hug. Shuri clung on tightly, though she loosened her grip a little at Ororo's wheeze.

"Are you well enough to stand?"

Ororo nodded, standing with a little effort. "Are you well enough to drag these two?" she wheezed out, attempting humor.

Shuri managed to flash Ororo a grin, despite her deliberate effort not to look in Bee's direction. "I may have to drag his head over some rocks," Shuri mused as she stowed away the spear. "In revenge."

While Ororo went to take digital photographs of their mission objective, Shuri radioed Brand for assistance. Then, Ororo went over to grab Forge by the forearms, while Shuri picked up T'Challa's arms. The two girls began to drag their unconscious parcels along the ground.

"This. Is. Not. Very. Dignified. For. A. Leader," Shuri huffed out as they pulled.

"We'll have to take photographic evidence for later," Ororo said, working hard as well, since Forge was only a little lighter than T'Challa.

With Brand's help, they eventually got the two unconscious boys back on the carrier. They were too tired to try and put them on anything comfortable, so it was a fairly hard recovery when Forge and T'Challa came to.

"Ororo," T'Challa whispered, rolling her name around in his mouth. "Ro. Ororo. Ro, are you alright?" He tilted his head around, groaning a little as the room was clearly spinning as he came out of his stupor. "I am so sorry, Ororo," T'Challa murmured. "I remember everything."

"It was like being in a dream," Forge said, holding his head in his hand.

"We are wide awake," Ororo said, her voice raspy. "And we're all alive — and safe."

"You saved me," T'Challa said. He was starting to sound more like himself, though he hadn't moved. "How could I have lived with myself if I killed my sister?"

There was that word again. _Sister._

"Brother, that is what family is for," Shuri said, her voice tight with emotion. "You taught me that. Family is everything. I would die for you, and I would kill for you." She pulled him into a tight hug, and after a moment, T'Challa returned the hug. Another few long minutes later, T'Challa also reached out and wrapped his arm around Ororo.

Ororo took a deep breath through the pain of her neck. It felt so nice to feel as if she belonged to family again. She caught Forge's eye as he lifted his head, then beckoned him over. After a slight hesitation, Forge crawled over and rested his hand on Ororo's arm again. Shuri lifted her head, and, on seeing him outside of their little circle, she reached out to tug his arm, bringing him into the fold.

 _Family_. _Always._


	62. Chapter 62: Almost Like the First Time

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're bringing you some awesome (pun intended) Team Awesome goodness with Ophelia Claire and her Amazing Nightcrawler ;)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers who reviewed, and HOLY COW PracticallyAnAvenger! That marathon of reviews was AMAZING and had all of us grinning. Seriously, the whole team of writers appreciates the individual attention paid to chapters. Shout-out also to TheRaspberryVigilante for also doing a double review. We love it when our character development gets kudos :D**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Two - Almost Like The First Time**

 **Kurt Wagner, Formerly of District Nine**

 **Written By Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _I got you to look after me, and you got me to look after you, and that's why." ―_ _John Steinbeck, Of Mice and Men_

* * *

At this point in the war, there were plenty of things that had Kurt worried and tense on a regular basis: their base being discovered, Kate's well-being, his family's safety in Nine. It came with the territory, after all, and most of these things he could deal with and process quickly.

But one thing kept him up at night. One little thing that was proving very difficult to deal with in a normal fashion.

And it was only "little" in the physical sense: Logan was only five feet tall or so, after all.

 _Logan._

Kurt unquestioningly considered the director to be his closest friend. Something between them had clicked right away all those years ago. An instant camaraderie when they'd run across one another in the arena. And for a long time, it had seemed as though Logan had felt the same way.

But something had changed. Every day, it seemed, Logan retreated further into himself, slowly becoming a harder and harder shell of his former self. And Kurt understood; he really did — being the director of SHIELD in the middle of a war couldn't be anything even remotely close to _easy._ Not to mention that people who had done truly unspeakable things to Logan were still running around causing trouble in the Capitol — and Logan, being Logan, hadn't opted to try and work through any of that.

And as a result, he'd apparently made some kind of deal with Wade on his last mission that—

Kurt didn't even want to think about it. It was _terrifying_ to consider what might have resulted from Wade holding up his end of the bargain.

So, to put it briefly, Kurt was worried about Logan. _Very_ worried.

"Whatcha thinkin' about, bud?"

Kurt turned around from his place at one of the big bay windows in the Howlett mansion library to find Peter waiting. He sighed, folding his arms and clasping his elbows. He tapped his thumbs on his arms absentmindedly.

"I'm thinking about how Logan asked Wade to… to _kill_ him," Kurt said, his throat tightening slightly at the words. "I'm thinking about how I didn't know how deeply he was hurting… how he didn't..." There was a gentle prickling in the corners of Kurt's eyes. "I should've been able to see it," he said.

Peter's eyes were sad, but the corner of his mouth turned up in a gentle smile. "You can't hold yourself accountable for that," he said. "Logan is one of the toughest people I know, but he keeps everything locked down way under the surface. The only one more perceptive than you here is Charles and even he didn't see that coming, so don't beat yourself up about it." He studied Kurt for a beat. "There's something else you're upset about, isn't there?"

Kurt huffed out something that was half-sigh, half-laugh. "I'm not the only perceptive one," he murmured. "It's selfish, honestly. I just—" He shrugged, a little annoyed. "I thought he and I were close. I guess I thought he would tell me if something was hurting him that much." He shook his head. "It's a dumb thing to be mad about," he muttered.

"Nah, it's not," Peter put a hand on Kurt's shoulder. "You've got every right to feel rejected, and I don't think it's either of your faults. It wasn't your job to notice, and although Logan does need to learn to talk about his feelings like the rest of us, he's got a lot on his plate, and he probably didn't want to _bother_ anyone. You know how he gets."

"All too well," Kurt agreed.

"And, hey, if it's really bugging you, you've sat him down for a talk before. He listens to you when you really have something to say. Even if you _don't_ hit him first."

"You're right," Kurt said, wrapping Peter in a quick one-armed hug. "Um — oh, did you come in here for something? Sorry for distracting you."

"Oh, yeah!" Peter said. "This might cheer you up, actually." He grinned. "We've got a mission."

* * *

The man on the screen intrigued Kurt. He disliked him on principle, of course, what with the man being a HYDRA agent, but the intrigue came from the fact that the man carried a pair of swords that he was apparently unafraid to use.

"Baron Wolfgang von Strucker," Coulson said as Logan and Skye kept their heads together at her laptop. "He's a high-ranking Hydra official who's survived this long by staying off the radar and out of everyone's way, but we've got intel that he's surfaced in Three. As far as we can tell, he's trying to convince Three's most advanced crime family to give Hydra access to tech that could give them a big boost to stay relevant in this fight. He's a swordsman—" Coulson, Kate, Peter and Logan all glanced at Kurt, who immediately went pink all the way to the tips of his ears. "—and he's highly skilled. He needs to be taken down a couple notches."

"And by 'a couple notches' you mean 'put him in the ground,' right?" Peter asked.

Coulson sighed. "At the beginning of all this, I would have said that should be your last resort, but at this point, I think it should be your goal. Their motto is 'Cut off one head; two more grow it its place,' so we need to burn the stumps before they can grow again. Anything we _can_ do to cripple their leadership team, we _need_ to do."

There was a series of nods around the room.

"Right," Coulson continued. "Standard mission prep here. You have access to any supplies or people you want to bring with you from the mansion. Kurt, Peter, Kate — seeing as the people involved run a Japanese mafia in Three, you're going to need our resident language expert." He gestured to Logan. "Your transport leaves in half an hour."

Logan was the first one up and out of the room, leaving Peter staring at him for a moment. As he left, Peter quickly shifted gears and made eye contact with Kurt, then tipped his head at Logan's retreating back with a querying look on his face. Kurt shook his head minutely. This wasn't the time. There would certainly be a Best Friend Talk in the future, but before a mission definitely wasn't the time for it.

Instead, Kurt walked with Kate to their shared room. He walked close to her, reaching out and brushing her fingers with his, the invitation silently there if she wanted to take it — which she did, twining her fingers tightly with his.

They were pretty quiet as they prepared for the flight. There were a few words of gentle reassurance, but they had become pretty good at silent communication.

After ten minutes of rummaging around and packing up, Kate came over and just wrapped her arms around Kurt, tucking her head into his collar. He returned the gesture, holding her firmly but not too tightly, in case she felt the need to move away.

"Everything okay?" he asked softly.

"I should be asking that to you," she murmured. "Something's eating away at you; I can tell."

Kurt told her what he'd been talking about with Peter earlier. She listened and was quiet for a minute.

"Peter's right," she said. "You need to talk some sense into him. There are, like, three people here that he'll actually _listen_ to. You and Skye and _maybe_ Bruce. He's your best friend, and he cares about you, even if it's seemed otherwise lately."

Kurt gently kissed her forehead. "I have the best friends in the world," he said.

They stayed like that for a while, standing in an embrace for several more minutes, just soaking up each other's presence.

Eventually, Kurt loosened his grip and pulled away slightly. "We should head for the transports," he said. "Wheels up in five." The two of them shouldered their packs and headed for the door.

Team Awesome was in the process of stowing their bags in the back of the jet when more footsteps came up the gangplank. Skye's face appeared in the hatch — and she was not wearing a pleased expression.

"You thought you could leave without me?" she asked, glaring at Logan. Logan was doing a very good job of _not_ meeting her gaze and didn't say anything as he continued stowing his gear, which prompted Skye to huff and climb the rest of the way on board with her own bag. "I'm your _bodyguard_ , Logan," she said. "This is literally my _job_ , and the last time you went somewhere without me, you got into a _mess_ , so I'm coming."

"We're glad to have you with us, Skye," Kurt offered. Skye pushed her bag into a storage compartment and took a seat, though she kept the ever-present laptop with her.

"Good to know someone's glad to have me here," she grumbled before Logan finally turned her way and held her gaze until she blushed and sat back with the glow of the computer lighting her face blue. Everyone took their seats as the engines rumbled and strapped in as the wheels lifted off the ground.

The flight was short, less than two hours. There was quiet conversation, mostly between Kurt, Kate, and Peter, with the occasional comment thrown in by Skye as she updated them on intel and tried to join in with the jokes.

As they drew close to their goal, the jet's radio squawked. Coulson was on the other end, delivering last-minute intel.

"Strucker was spotted by one of our informants entering a Victor's Village mansion," Coulson said. "Unclear if that's where he's taken up residence or not."

"Copy," Logan replied. "We'll figure it out."

As the plane began its descent, Logan went over the plan once more.

"Our target is Strucker," Logan said. "Any other low-level HYDRA agents are secondary and expendable. If we come across anyone from the Yashida clan, I'll handle them. Neither Yashida nor the Hydra agents should be your priority. If you can take Strucker out at range—" He paused to look at Kate. "—you should, but if you get into closer combat, Kurt's going to be the best option to take him on." Logan glanced at Kurt. "You ready for a swordfight, Elf?"

Kurt smiled, one hand on each sword sheathed at his waist. "Itching for one."

The jet touched down with barely a jolt as they stood and retrieved their gear. They all pulled masks over their faces and disembarked. They were just outside the edge of town, less than a mile from Victor's Village. It was beginning to grow dark; the sun was sinking on the horizon behind them, sending long shadows stretching out from their feet.

"We'll take the rest of this on foot," Logan said. "Get there after dark. He went into one of the unoccupied houses, so we'll have to get inside and search. He'll have guards, so be ready for that."

The five of them set off quietly. Swords, bows, web-shooters, guns, claws — they had the full spectrum of weaponry with them.

"Hey, you know what this means," Peter said quietly to Skye after a little while. "You're an honorary member of Team Awesome now. You're on a mission with the _original squad_."

Kurt chuckled quietly. "Is that what the qualifications are? Because Elsie Dee asked me if she could be a member the other day, and I said yes."

"Hard to say no to Elsie," Logan added unexpectedly. "Pretty sure that little half-pint has the right qualifications for anything she wants."

Kurt smiled at the glimpse of the old Logan breaking through for a moment.

Soon enough, the looming buildings of the Victor's Village were visible ahead of them. A faint light was visible in one of them, and that would be their target. With Stane and Rhodes both dead, no one should've been home.

Getting into the house wasn't the problem. The front door was unlocked — which immediately set off warning bells in Kurt's head and, he hoped, everyone else's too.

They crept inside one by one, making their way through the dark entryway and down the hallway without a sound.

It was so quiet, in fact, that they heard very faint voices floating down the staircase as they passed.

Even considering the guards, Strucker was not alone — if it was Strucker. Their plans needed to change.

Logan motioned for them to head up the stairs. They did, staggering their movements and keeping to the edges of the stairs to minimize creaks. The voices were louder and could be discerned as a male and a female speaking to one another. Logan tipped his his head, and Kurt could tell he was listening intently before he stiffened slightly.

Kurt guessed that Logan recognized the other voice and had to wonder if it was part of the Yashida clan. Logan typed something into his wrist computer, and a moment later, the message popped up on everyone else's.

 _Man is Strucker. Woman is Selene Gallio. Another high-ranked Hydra official and one of the richest and most corrupt women in the Capitol. Take down both._

Another moment of typing.

 _If they split, Skye and I will take Gallio. Otherwise, I'll cover and draw fire. Move in on my signal._

Once everyone was looking back up at Logan, he raised a hand, then pointed two fingers.

They burst into the study, startling the occupants out of their chairs. Strucker was fast to react, racing through a door on the other side of the room, moving surprisingly fast for a man who looked as old as he did. Kurt caught the scabbard at his hip as he fled before giving chase, Kate and Peter hot on his heels as Logan did exactly as he said he would and drew fire from the guards that had stuck with Selene. Kate and Peter automatically dove in, giving Kurt cover from von Strucker's men.

Kurt drew his swords as he ran down the hallway, catching a glimpse of Strucker heading for another flight of stairs. Kurt reached the top as Strucker descended and only hesitated for a fraction of a second before vaulting over the balustrade and landing solidly on the ground floor just as Strucker wheeled around the railing at the bottom and came to screeching halt.

" _How_ —" Strucker only had a moment to be dumbstruck before Kurt charged, his swords flashing in the moonlight coming through the window. Strucker drew his sword from the scabbard and met both of Kurt's just in the nick of time, their blades clashing with a metallic ringing. Kurt wasted no time in an up-close show of strength, immediately leaping back for another blow, and the fight began in earnest.

It was clear that Strucker had years — decades, maybe — more experience than Kurt, and perhaps the only reason that he hadn't already sliced Kurt to ribbons was that Kurt had an extra sword to keep him busy. Even with that to contend with, he managed to hold his own. The two whirled across the open entry hall locked in a deadly dance. Kurt would lash out, and Strucker would parry and riposte with almost superhuman speed. Kurt didn't even have time to get a second strike in before he had to parry himself. Even if his attacks were nearly simultaneous, Strucker managed to avoid or block them.

One of Strucker's strikes came close to taking Kurt's head off. Kurt managed to duck out of the way, but the blade sliced along his cheek, ripping the material of his mask and slicing a fine line along his cheekbone. Kurt could feel the blood begin to drip down his face right away, and the ripped material of his mask fluttered in his face, forcing him to pull off the headwear and toss it away.

Kurt caught glimpses of Kate and Peter still up on the landing, not daring to enter the close quarters of the fight. Both had weapons aimed, but getting a bead on Strucker was proving difficult at the speed which he was moving.

Kurt had certainly met more than his equal.

He might have met his match.

The fight could only go on so long. Kurt was beginning to tire, his arms starting to ache with each clashing strike that was blocked or that he had to block. Strucker, on the other hand, showed no sign of wear.

"You think yourself a challenge for me, _boy?_ " he hissed, getting a strike in that glanced off Kurt's swords but still managed to carve along Kurt's bicep. Kurt let out an involuntary yelp of pain and ducked the next swing. "I have trained for years to become a master swordsman. An insolent whelp who fancies himself a fencer is no difficulty for me to dispatch."

A patch of white webbing exploded onto the wall near their heads — Peter had tried a shot. It hadn't hit, but for some reason, it sparked a memory of the arena that Kurt hadn't thought about in a while.

 _The spider climbed up a nearby wall, and launched a stream of sticky white webbing with deadly accuracy, smacking the torch out of his hand and extinguishing the flame with a sputter._

The next strike came, and Kurt was ready. He blocked the swing but lightning fast dropped his swords to take hold of Strucker's arm.

"Now!" he shouted, hoping his allies were aiming and ready, and was rewarded by another burst of webbing that ripped Strucker's arm free of Kurt's grasp and pinned it to the wall, the sword clattering to the ground. Kurt retrieved his swords and placed them at Strucker's throat.

The man's demeanor changed instantly.

"Now, don't be hasty, I'm sure we can work something out—"

"I don't have time to work something out," Kurt said, pulling his swords in one swift, clean motion.

Strucker stopped offering to work things out.

Kurt turned and raced back up the stairs to join his friends, leaving Strucker's body supported by the hand webbed to the wall.

As he arrived on the landing, Kate pulled off her mask, took his face between her hands, and kissed him full on the lips.

"I'm not going to lie; that was _hot_ ," she said a little breathlessly as she pulled away.

For all the quips Kurt had made, heard, and been on the receiving end of in his life, he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Kate looked like she was about to go in for another kiss when Peter cleared his throat. "Guys," he said. "Not that I'm not in support of this, but _the mission_." He turned and ran back down the hallway. Though they weren't fully visible in the dark house, Kurt and Kate blushed identical shades of pink as they followed close behind.

When they arrived back in the study, things were going considerably less well.

Selene was gone, as were several black-clad figures that she'd clearly summoned for help — but Logan hadn't followed. He was on the ground with Skye crouched over him, one hand pressing a wad of fabric to a wound on his chest and the other pointing a gun at them as they entered.

"Whoa, it's us, _it's us_!" Peter said as they skidded to a halt. "What happened?"

"Gallio had helpers waiting. One got Logan right through a chink in his body armor then cracked him in the head hard," Skye said. "I shot Selene, but she slipped out. Is Strucker dead?"

"Extremely," Kurt said.

"Good," Skye replied. "Let's get out of here. Peter, run ahead and get back to the jet. We're wheels up as soon as we get Logan on board. Radio back to base and tell them we're going to need medical as soon as we get there." Peter sprinted from the room as Skye, Kurt, and Kate began picking up Logan as carefully as they could.

Peter had done one better than what Skye had asked: the jet had moved and was now sitting in the field no more than ten yards from the house they were leaving. The engines were, on and as soon as the hatch had closed behind them, they were in the air. Skye began unpacking medkits and packing gauze into Logan's stab wounds. Kurt helped wherever he could, but he was mostly on autopilot. His lips still tingled with the memory of the kiss, and Kate was there next to him, twining her fingers through hers.

* * *

Logan was the only one still out from the fight — unsurprisingly, as he'd taken a blade right through some vital spots and everyone else had come out with some minor cuts and bruises. Dr. Simmons had promised that Logan was supposed to come around in the next couple hours, though, so once Kurt's cuts had been treated, he went to find a new book to read and settled down in a chair next to Logan's bed in the medbay. It was time for the Best Friend Talk, and though it may have been a little devious and sneaky to have it while Logan couldn't walk away, Kurt was prepared to deal with the guilt that may or may not have arisen from the situation.

It wasn't too long before Logan began to stir slightly, and Kurt marked the page in his book and set it aside. Logan's eyelids fluttered a few times before they opened for real, and he winced. Kurt propped his head on one hand and smiled at him. "Welcome back."

Logan glared at him with one eye opened and let out a breath. "You're hilarious."

Kurt smiled a little harder. "It's your favorite thing about me." He sat up, leaning forward just a hair. "How're you feeling?"

"Ready to run a few miles," Logan said without missing a beat.

"Mm. I'm sure," Kurt said, though not without a teasing tone in his voice. "But I didn't really mean the stab wounds."

"Then I don't know what you're talking about," Logan said, one eyebrow raised.

Kurt pressed his lips together, the smile fading. He opened his mouth, closed it, and breathed in through his nose before trying again. "Logan, you know I consider you my best friend, right?"

"Yeah, love you too, Elf. We're good."

A smile pulled gently at the corners of Kurt's mouth once more. "That's good to hear. So you understand why I was more than a little concerned when I heard what you'd asked Wade to do?" Kurt held up his hands quickly. "I'm not here to pull the holier-than-thou stuff again or anything like that. I'm here because I'm just worried about my best friend."

Logan let out a sigh. "You're gettin' that intel out of context," Logan said in a low, automatic sort of rumbling tone. "And I'm curious on who spilled."

Kurt bit his lip. "Skye," he said after a moment. "But I agree that I don't have all the information, and I'm not one to make snap judgements without both sides of the story."

Logan turned his head to look out the window for a moment, not really looking at anything as he clearly tried to wait Kurt out. But when it was clear that wasn't the way it was going to happen, he gave him a little nod. "It was supposed to be the worst case scenario — if the archers couldn't get the shot and she was taking me in."

Kurt nodded slowly. "More of a cyanide capsule than a suicide?"

"If it was suicide, I'd be doin' it myself," Logan said, his tone flat.

Kurt couldn't stop a pained look from crossing his face. "Well, that's… good to hear, I guess. I've just…" He huffed out a little laugh. "I don't want to be a mother hen, but apparently that's just my nature. I've just been worried about you… about everyone, really. You, Kate, my family, Peter's aunt, Kate's sister. It takes a toll, and I guess I just thought it might have gotten too heavy a burden for you." He sat back. "I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions."

But at that, Logan's gaze dropped to his hands, and he clearly didn't have anything to add — positive or negative to confirm or deny.

Kurt caught the look. "Logan…" he said softly. It wasn't pitying, just concerned.

"It's fine, Kurt," Logan said quietly.

Kurt twisted his hands together in his lap. "I won't pretend to understand everything on your plate," he said softly. "Everything with being the director, and… things that happened to you. I truly can't imagine the choices you've had to make. Just… make me a promise?"

"What kind of promise?" Logan asked after a long silent stretch.

"When this is all over, I want to share a drink with you. Promise me you'll do your best to be there to share it."

"Sure you don't want to do it now?" Logan said.

"Frankly, I don't think you're in any condition to be having anything like that," Kurt said dryly.

"Oh, you a doctor now?" Logan challenged.

Kurt laughed — a real laugh, short as it was — and shook his head. "All right, all right, I won't push it. But I do want something right now."

"Whatcha need?" Logan asked, shifting already to test out the idea of being upright and wincing harder at the results.

"Though I'm slightly reconsidering after that display just now, can I hug my best friend?" Kurt was fully prepared for a rejection, and he wasn't about to be surprised by one, but what came next _did_ surprise him just a little.

"How'm I gonna stop you?"

Kurt chuckled. "A simple 'no' would probably do it," he said. "But I'm not hearing one…" He rose from his chair and leaned down slightly, wrapping his arms around Logan's sturdy frame — lightly, so as not to cause Logan any more pain, but a hug nonetheless. "I've missed you," he said. "The real you."

"Nah," Logan said, though he'd been sure to give Kurt a healthy squeeze. "You've been plenty busy, too."

Kurt released Logan and picked up his book. "Get some rest," he said. He gave Logan a two-fingered salute and a smile as he headed out the door.

And if a small bottle of whiskey and a glass had appeared on the bedside table next time Logan woke up, well, there were no cameras in the medbay, and no one but Logan would know what the little attached note meant.

 _I'm counting on one more in the future._


	63. Chapter 63: Vengeance Is in My Heart

**(A/N): Happy Friday! With this chapter, written by the lovely and talented Abby Well, we're kicking off the final round of full chapters. After this round of chapters, we'll have our epilogues, and then (can you believe it?) this beautiful story will come to an end. Holy crap.**

 **We want to thank all our writers for continuing to be rockstars and supporting each other publicly and privately. Thanks to Slim Summers2002 (we also love the boys chatting), Practically An Avenger ("Weenie Von Strucker" is now our favorite name ever), and TheRaspberryVigilante41 (swashbuckling is so. much. fun!) for reviewing and for being generally amazing.**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Three - Vengeance Is In My Heart, Death In My Hand**

 **Pamela Isley**

 **District Eleven**

 **Written by Abby Well**

* * *

 _"Heav'n has no rage like love to hatred turn'd/_

 _Nor Hell a fury, like a woman scorn'd."_

William Congreve, 'The Mourning Bride'

" _But it's too late to say you're sorry_

 _How would I know? Why should I care?_

 _Please don't bother trying to find her_

 _She's not there…"_

The Zombies, 'She's Not There'

* * *

Despite all the work he'd supposedly been doing for the district, nobody in Eleven had actually seen Jason Woodrue since before the worst of the fighting had begun.

This had made Ivy immediately suspicious. She'd been wrong when telling the Joker that she'd never known anyone to enjoy the sound of their own voice as much as he did; if Jason wasn't making a point of telling anyone and everyone about the good he was doing for the District, then he was most likely not doing it at all.

She suspected he had sensed something was going to happen and preemptively jumped ship, like the proverbial rat, leaving Eleven to believe that one of their most distinguished scientists was working on ways to help them rebuild. Of course he was. What kind of a monster would abandon his home in its time of need, when he had the expertise to help it get back on its feet?

The trouble was that this false hope had led SHIELD, specifically Agent Skye, to believe they knew what he was up to. Ivy knew different; she knew him better than anyone else she could think of — which was why she was heading to where she knew the labs to be, accompanied by Harley and Wade.

"D'ya know which one's his?" Harley asked, skipping along. She was swinging a brand-new baseball bat in one hand — metal with a red and black striped handle.

"No," Ivy replied. The three of them passed a cluster of Eleven citizens, who stopped and stared at them before hurrying on their way. "He didn't really let me in that side of his life." She paused to reach up and twist her cloud of red curls into a thick coil, which she quickly fastened with some twigs scavenged from about her person to keep it up and away from her shoulders. They'd only been in Eleven for half an hour at most, but already, the heat was overbearing.

"The more ya tell me about him, Red, the more I wanna smash his teeth in," Harley said cheerily.

"Me too," Wade agreed, trotting up behind them. "To think he took such a delicate, innocent flower and...um…"

Ivy was staring at him, one eyebrow arched. "Please finish that sentence."

"No fear." Wade held up his hands. "I know what you can do with a sword."

Ivy smirked. "You only have yourself to blame for that."

It was a little odd, still — the easy back-and-forth — but she certainly felt reassured about Wade's intentions since their chat in the cockpit of the plane. They'd reached a strange sort of understanding, meaning she could walk side-by-side with him without that old creeping suspicion whispering in her ear, _don't trust him. Don't trust any man. They just want to use you._ She could appreciate his concern, and his feelings for Harley, knowing they came from a genuine place — even while she wondered at the possible significance of finding a man who actually cared about her feelings only _after_ he'd died.

Death was just a part of her life now, it seemed; the closest person in her life had come back from the dead, her district had crumbled to dust while she'd been gone, and now she had killed twice and was preparing to kill again.

The back of her neck prickled.

Someone was watching her.

Almost instantly, her hands curled into fists, and she snapped her head toward a young boy standing a few feet away. He couldn't have been more than ten, with big, dark eyes, a short fuzz of hair covering his scalp, and ears that stuck out. He was grinning at her, showing off a tiny gap between his front teeth. She glared back at him, but the smile remained. He wasn't scared of her at all.

As if the boy had released some secret signal, Ivy suddenly felt the sensation of being watched coming at her from every direction. Her skin was alive with chills, and she froze — causing Harley and Wade to jerk to a stop around her to avoid falling on their faces — and turned slowly on the spot, taking it all in.

There were so many of them, light- and dark-skinned Elevens alike, watching her in silent awe. Staring, pointing, some whispering. None of them were coming toward her, as if they might have been afraid or simply just didn't want to get in her way, but they were wide-eyed and even, seemingly, impressed by her presence in the district.

"Harley." She reached for her port in the storm and felt cool fingers clasp her hand. "Why are they looking at me?"

"Well… you're kinda famous, Red," Harley replied in a rapid whisper. "I mean, ya were the last survivin' tribute from here, ya made it to the Final Four, and hell, ya mighta won if this whole revolution thingy hadn't taken over. I guess there were a lotta people rootin' for ya back home — no pun intended." She waved her free hand at the smiling boy.

Ivy frowned, her gaze flickering from one unfamiliar face to the next, and the next, and the next. There was a surprising number of people gathering around, an impromptu welcome party. She didn't like the feeling of being watched by so many eyes — it wasn't as easy to ignore as it had been in the arena, where the cameras were hidden and the watching faces were miles and miles away. These were real people, up close and personal.

"I knew you'd come back."

The voice that spoke was soft and creaked with age, but it carried across the quiet space just as a small commotion happened and the crowd parted to let someone through.

A man, carrying himself stiffly, his face marred by dirt and time, his left arm tucked inside his jacket as if moving it might be painful, limped forward away from the rest of the crowd and smiled, showing dark gaps where teeth had once been. The smile looked painful too, like his face had forgotten how.

Ivy's eyes went wide.

Moss nodded slowly, not even needing her to say anything. "Hello, rosebud. You said you'd come back. You promised, and here you are." He closed the gap between them but didn't reach out to touch or embrace her, instead just drinking her in with his tired eyes.

"Um…" Ivy paused, her mouth suddenly dry. She hadn't expected this. Part of her had assumed her parents would be dead or that their paths simply wouldn't cross hers while she was back in Eleven; another part seemed to have forgotten she had parents altogether. Looking him over, she found she wanted to ask him so many things all of a sudden, but she had no idea which question to start with.

"Harley, Wade," she began carefully, "this is Moss. My father."

"Pleased to meetcha." Harley beamed once she'd gotten over the initial surprise, clasping Moss's right hand with both of hers and shaking it enthusiastically.

Moss peered at her, blinking slowly. He seemed to have aged about twenty years since Ivy had last seen him. "I know you. You took care of my girl in that place."

"We took care of each other, Mistah Moss," Harley assured him. "Red always had my back."

"She's a good girl." Moss nodded absently, then turned his gaze to Wade, who looked as if he was trying not to explode with excitement. "And who might you be?"

Wade cleared his throat. "Wade Wilson, sir. Can I just say, it's—"

"Where's Yarrow?" Ivy asked suddenly. She scanned the surrounding crowd, trying to spot a familiar face now that she knew who to look for.

Moss seemed to shrink inside his already too-large jacket, and Ivy knew the answer before he'd said another word. A strange swirl of emotions tore through her chest like a whirlwind, taking her breath away and leaving a fresh, new emptiness next to a wound that had only recently healed over. For a moment, she stood completely still, staring at her father's face, seeing the painful truth that seethed beneath his haggard features.

Her mother was gone; her father was suffering silently in her absence, in the aftermath of war, with nobody left to stand at his side. He'd been alone all this time.

In that moment of pain and realization, Ivy forgot her quest for vengeance and simply stepped into Moss's embrace. He was warm and solid, and even though he could only use one arm to hold her, she felt completely enveloped. She tucked her head against his shoulder the way she remembered and breathed in the scent of earth, grass, what had been _home_ , once upon a time. "I'm sorry," she murmured into her father's ear. "I'm sorry you were left alone."

"But you came back, love; you said you would," Moss repeated, mumbling the words almost to himself.

"I'm not staying, though." Ivy moved back from him and placed her hands gently on his shoulders so he could see her apologetic face.

"No?" Moss looked crushed.

Ivy shook her head. She hated seeing what her words were doing to him, and a tiny voice called from a closed off corner of her heart to reconsider, to stay, but she barricaded the door and ignored it. She couldn't think about that now. "I can't," she explained. "This isn't the place for me anymore — but I can bring you peace while I'm here. I can rid the world of the man that took your child away." _That robbed me of the chance to say goodbye to my mother_. When Moss looked confused, Ivy pressed on with sudden urgency, knowing they couldn't stand here talking amid a crowd of people for much longer without being noticed by Hydra or worse. "Not Wilson. Woodrue. Do you know him? They say he's going to make the crops grow again, but he's lying. He's up to something else — and he put me in the Games. He made them choose me. He broke my heart and made me disappear; do you remember?"

While she spoke, she watched as a scowl moved like a shadow over Moss's gentle face, beginning at his forehead then creeping downward over his skin until his mouth set into a straight line.

"He took me away once, and then he took me away again, but I'm here now, Moss. I can't stay, but I'm here now."

"What do you need, rosebud?" Moss's arm reached up and clasped something that was hanging around his neck, tucked under his shirt. His green eyes were fierce, at odds with the rest of him and reminding Ivy so much of her own.

Ivy glanced behind her to where Harley and Wade stood hand in hand, wearing identical expressions of shock, sympathy, and anticipation all tangled together. She smiled at them.

"A distraction."

* * *

They waited, the three of them hidden in an alley, clustered together. Harley and Wade kept whispering to each other, hushed words that Ivy barely paid attention to while she kept her gaze fixed on the lab building. Her gaze roved from window to window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Jason lurking within, then back to the guards at the door. There were only two of them, but they were armed, and while Wade and Harley had weapons of their own and she was carrying a knife, none of them would be much of a match for a gun unless Wade could slice through bullets with his katanas.

She stole a glance to the right, off toward the main square outside the Justice Building. Moss had gone that way, along with the rest of the gatherers, to create enough of a distraction to draw the guards away from the doors. If it didn't work, well… she supposed her apparent fame might be enough to get them to let her in, if she turned on the charm.

She almost hoped it wouldn't come to that. She was getting a bit tired of having to appeal to the eyes of others in order to get what she wanted; when was she going to be able to just _be_? Would it be once Jason was dead — or would another unwanted man turn up, getting in the way of her happiness? She sighed, suddenly a little melancholy in spite of everything.

"Hey, Red," Harley whispered, slinking up behind her and resting her chin on Ivy's shoulder. "You okay? You worried about ya dad?"

"Among other things." Ivy tilted her head and brushed a kiss against Harley's cheek. She noticed Wade on Harley's other side, his arms wrapped around her waist, a little too close for comfort in the enclosed space but still not even accidentally touching Ivy. "I never thought I'd see him again, you know? And now he's out starting a riot in a war-torn district so I can kill my ex boyfriend without being seen. It's…"

"Kinda messed up, huh?" Harley giggled. "Red, he'd do anythin' for ya, and from what I can see, you've kinda given him a purpose again. Whaddaya think it was like, losin' you and your mom and then havin' Eleven fall to pieces? Guy had nothing left."

Ivy nodded slowly. "I hadn't thought about it," she confessed.

"Ooh, you're so _smart_ , babe." Wade gathered Harley even closer to him and gave her a squeeze, making her laugh. "I love a gal with a big brain."

"Yeah," Harley preened, tossing her hair. "Lotsa folks think I'm just another bubble-headed blonde bimbo. Well the joke's on them — I'm not even a real blonde!"

"Shh!" Ivy said suddenly. She moved forward to peek around the corner of the alley and strained her ears to listen to the faint yelling that was floating toward them on the lackluster breeze. "I think it's starting."

It was difficult to pick out words, but if the plan of the crowd was anything to go by, they'd be parading in front of the Justice Building, calling out for J'onn J'onzz and his supporters. Moss had told her that even with a temporary truce, once the war ended, J'onzz's supporters had resurrected their hostility towards the fairer-skinned residents of Eleven, spewing more vitriol at every opportunity. She vaguely remembered how on Reaping Day; Sam had seemed to be reading from a cue as he'd spoken about uniting their district as a justification for two white tributes… She'd thought that was strange, but if J'onzz was involved it made an unfortunate sort of sense. Moss in particular, in the midst of the mob, would have more of a reason than most for hating the man.

The guards in front of the labs were starting to notice the noise, too, frowning and muttering to each other. One of them spoke into a walkie-talkie that was clipped to their shoulder, and Ivy just about heard a voice squawk a reply.

The distant shouts were growing louder — no doubt Sentinels were arriving in the square to try and corral the rioters. Ivy swallowed, clenching her teeth as she imagined her father being beaten to the ground. She was a little surprised at how worried she felt, having not even considered her father's well-being for weeks. What parts of her were reawakening, now that she was back where she'd grown up? Would she feel the same nostalgic tug of affection toward Jason when she saw him again?

She curled her hands into fists and dismissed that thought immediately. _Never_.

"Get ready," Wade murmured from somewhere behind her. He pointed over her shoulder at the guards, who were beginning to move away from the lab building door, barking intermittently into their walkie-talkies and gripping their guns tight. "That's our cue, ladies. You two zip in there, I'm just gonna make sure our friends go where we _think_ they're going."

"Be careful, sweetie," Harley whispered, giving him a big kiss.

"Don't do anything stupid," Ivy added with an affectionately withering look.

Wade grinned. "See, that's why I love the both of you. Sweet and salty." He shooed them onward, hands flapping, then drew his twin katanas from their sheaths and scuttled off after the guards.

Harley grabbed Ivy's hand and they crossed the street fleet-footed, running together until they reached the vacated doors. "Go, go, go!" Harley squeaked, pushing Ivy through into the building with a pat on her backside for good measure.

Inside it was cold and white, clinical, and it sent a shudder of revulsion down Ivy's spine. It reminded her of her room, back in SHIELD's compound. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed it down with a grimace, along with the unpleasant memories that came with the antiseptic smell assaulting her nose.

"Which way, Red?" Harley was peering up at a sign on the wall that listed the departments on each floor. Ivy followed her gaze, narrowing her eyes as she read her way up and down the list.

 _There he is._

"Fourth floor. Come on." She headed for the staircase and began to climb. Neither of them spoke, but at some point, Harley took her hand again, so she had something to focus on as she climbed aside from the gnawing anxiety twisting her stomach into knots the higher they went. She wasn't afraid of Jason, not at all, but she didn't want anything to go wrong like the last time she'd headed off on a revenge mission. He was far from on par with the Joker in terms of deadly fighting ability, but he might have prepared himself some other way, found a weapon he could try and surprise her with when she appeared. He must have known she was in Eleven by now.

The fourth floor of the building was deserted when they arrived, only slightly out of breath from the climb. Ivy walked determinedly down the hallway, her green eyes flicking from side to side as she read the names on each door. She didn't realize it, but her steps picked up speed as more and more unfamiliar names flashed by, and Harley had to alternate between running and skipping to keep up with her.

Finally, she saw that name and pulled to a graceful stop in front of his door.

 _Dr J. Woodrue. Botanical Biochemistry._

The door had a keycard reader, but that didn't matter; it was ajar. Only slightly, but enough to let a tiny shaft of light through, along with a strange chlorophyllic smell, like cut grass mixed with acid and something else...unsavory.

Cut grass only smelt like that because it was in pain, Ivy knew. A flash of anger coursed through her body at the thought of Jason hurting the green.

 _What's he doing in here?_

Her heart was thudding as she drew the knife from her belt and gripped it in a shaking hand. She could feel Harley close behind, ready with her shiny new bat, and even though Ivy couldn't see her, her presence was enough to quell the maelstrom of anxious anger rising in her chest. Images of Jason's face flickered before her mind's eye — his face, objectively handsome even if she wasn't attracted to it now, contorted in surprise or perhaps fear at the sight of her. Would he try to get away or would he be more inclined to sweet-talk his way past her fury, as if he still had power over her? She did actually want him to explain himself, but she knew the moment he tried to sink even one claw in, she was going to end him.

She gritted her teeth and kicked the door open.

The lab was empty.

Shock propelled her into the room and kept her moving, stalking between desks and cabinets, looking for a glint of sunlight on glasses or a tuft of salt-and-pepper hair sticking out from a hiding place. "He's not here," she growled. _How could he not be here? Where_ was _he?_ "He's not here, Harley!"

Her trail had gone cold. In a sudden fit of rage, she lashed out at the nearest desk and sent a wooden rack of glass vials flying across the room, where they smashed against a blackboard. Shards of glass ricocheted in all directions; Ivy watched some skittering back across the floor, her beautiful face impassive; then, the sight seemed to flip a switch inside her, and she immediately reached out to grab something else, not even looking.

Jason wasn't here, and all her anger had to be aimed _somewhere_ in his absence. She glanced down — in her hands was a paper file, empty, with some sort of coded message written on the front. It wasn't enough. She needed… she needed something solid, something that would break.

"Red," Harley said soothingly. "Calm down, honey. You don't wanna get caught."

Ivy whipped around and saw Harley standing with her palms out, the baseball bat on the floor. Her blue eyes looked huge in her anxious face, her eyebrows crinkling her forehead as she chewed her bottom lip. Ivy took a breath, feeling her anger subside a tiny bit.

"Lookit all this, Red," Harley continued, gesturing around the room to paper diagrams stuck to the walls, long equations scrawled in chalk on the blackboard, locked cabinets with strangely-colored liquids in flasks visible through the doors. "He's gotta be up to somethin'. Maybe if we figure that out, we'll know where he is?"

"Maybe," Ivy conceded, deliberately relaxing her shoulders. She forced herself to think about something other than her lost prey, approaching the blackboard instead and letting her eyes wander as she tried to make sense of what was written.

She didn't really understand the long-winded equations or complicated jumbles of numbers and letters, but she recognized a few symbols here and there, some of them the same as the scribble on the front of the folder she still clutched in her hand. Reading the lines over and over, she hoped some sort of meaning would rise from the murky depths of smudged chalk, but nothing came. She could feel it almost on the periphery of her thoughts, if she just looked at it the right way…

Harley, meanwhile, had managed to jimmy open one of the cabinets and was passing vials of strange fluid from hand to hand, reading the labels. "Hey, Red," she called over her shoulder, "you know what 'Miraclo' is?"

"What?" Ivy turned away from the mysterious blackboard. Harley was holding a bottle full of something a sickening shade of yellowish-green. "No idea."

"Sounds like compost…" Harley murmured, putting the vial down on the nearest countertop and rummaging inside the cabinet for another. "Either this is a really weird drinks cabinet or he was up ta somethin' fishy. Lookit this crap! Different versions, test numbers…" She reached further into the back, pushing racks and flasks aside. "Venom…"

Ivy stiffened. "What did you say?" _Venom. That doesn't sound good._

"Venom." Harley handed over another bottle with a similar liquid inside. "Version 2.2, apparently. Kinda grody." She wrinkled her nose.

Taking the bottle, heart pounding, Ivy lifted it up and peered closer. It didn't look particularly appetizing, and when she jiggled the bottle, it seemed to froth and bubble ominously. What the hell was Jason up to? Cautious, she slowly prised the cork from the top and took a sniff.

Her eyes snapped wide as her memory was wrenched back in time, to meeting Jason in the orchards after work every day, embracing him and breathing him in. As much as he'd tried to decontaminate himself after being in the labs, there'd always been something lingering, though at the time, she hadn't paid it much attention. If she'd asked, he'd swept her questions away or give a vague, propagandist answer.

" _We're working to make our district strong," he would say with a smile._

"Files!" Ivy exclaimed, making Harley jump. "We need files, formulae, notes on what this is." She had a terrible feeling growing inside her. This 'Venom' was making her think of Hydra, of Viper, of chemicals and experiments and bringing the dead back to life. Affronts to nature.

"Or," Wade interjected suddenly from the doorway, "you could ask him yourself." He jerked his thumb outside the room, pointing down the hallway.

"You found him? How?" Ivy ran to Wade's side. "Did he see you?"

"Nah, and he wouldn't know me anyway. I took it upon myself to have a little scout-about while I got the chance, just in case I spotted the slimy bastard. The party's in full swing in the square, by the way — J'onzz is _not_ a happy bunny." He pulled a face, then gently rested one hand on Ivy's shoulder and looked her in the eye. "Woodrue's down in the gardens, sweetpea. I think he's waiting for you."

* * *

Returning to the Poison Patch felt like a dream; Ivy had been planning to come home to her babies for so long, she almost couldn't believe she was actually here.

Her babies weren't, however.

She was distraught to see how the gardens, not just hers but all of them, had been ravaged and scavenged for resources to help in the fighting. Whoever had stolen them from their homes hadn't been kind about it, either; there were still shreds of dead roots and broken stems littering the soil. Walking between the beds, she bit her lip to keep herself from crying and toyed with the bottle of Venom in her hands. Behind her, Harley and Wade crept in silence, giving her the space to grieve. They understood what she needed: to apologize to her children for not being there, for putting her own needs for revenge ahead of their welfare. She could have stopped them hurting so much sooner…

"You couldn't have stopped them. They were relentless. Your work in the arena is what gave them the idea, after all."

The three of them froze, and Ivy turned towards the sound of Jason's voice, that voice she'd heard in the darkest depths of her mind during her SHIELD captivity.

There he was. Barely in his twenties now, he was still handsome, still tall and imperious in a way that she'd used to find enthralling and now just made him seem arrogant. Trying to reconcile her past and present impressions of him was a little odd, as if she was seeing him for the first time.

She stood tall to face him, swallowing her sadness down like medicine and letting it feed the anger smoldering within. _This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't had to leave._ _Your babies could have been cared for properly, treated with the respect they deserve. All of it comes back to him._

"Pamela." He dared to smile, but it shrivelled when he saw the ferocity in her eyes.

"No." Ivy shook her head. She could almost _feel_ Harley grinning at her response behind her, and she couldn't help but smile a little herself. "You should know that, Jason. You must have known putting me in the Games would change me." She took a step toward him and continued to speak, not letting him get a word in before she said her piece and he knew that _she_ knew he was to blame. "I remember you telling me how good I'd be in the arena. How I'd win, and then we'd have our happy-ever-after in Victor's Village. Was that what you hoped for?"

Jason was silent, caught off-guard.

Ivy kept on. "You never considered just how much I'd change, did you? Never considered when it was all said and done, I might not want to come back to you. I'm not surprised. You always were arrogant." Another step forward, keeping the Venom aloft so he had no choice but to see it.

He tried to rally. "I had complete faith in you—"

"You must have watched the Games." She spoke as if he hadn't said a word. "Did you see how I killed Dick Grayson? Did you see the Joker? He's dead now, too. I stabbed him through his heart. Wade and Harley helped me." She gestured behind her, and without being told, the two of them moved to flank her on either side, a united front once again.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Jason, but the girl you were hoping for at the end of the Games doesn't exist. She was never going to exist. I couldn't have realized my potential if you hadn't done it, I suppose, but knowing now what I'm truly capable of? There was never going to be a chance in hell of me coming back to you. Why would I even think of _you_? You _abandoned_ me."

Silent seconds passed between them. Jason swallowed hard when Ivy walked toward him again, right up close. Her face was perfectly calm as she looked him up and down.

"The thing is," she purred, "if you still wanted me to come back to you, I don't think you would have hidden yourself from me. Which makes me wonder: when did you realize you'd made a mistake? I know how much you hate to admit you're wrong." Her eyes flashed with a challenge, and she grinned wider.

"What do you want from me?" Jason croaked, then cleared his throat. He was still trying to maintain the upper hand, staring down at her, but Ivy could see he was having the same problem she had: he couldn't reconcile the shrinking violet Pamela he'd known with the woman standing in front of him. "You want me to say sorry? I'm not sorry. I sent you into the Games to see you achieve your potential, and it seems you have." He was rallying now, starting to gain a little confidence back, along with a cocky grin. "I had to plead your case to make them choose you, but you proved yourself to be quite formidable, given the opportunity. I knew you had it in you, darling."

Ivy cocked her head to one side slowly, considering him. Then, she smiled back, a predatory smile. "You know, I'm getting a little tired of men thinking they control me."

Quicker than even she had expected, she brought her knife up and slashed at the front of his shirt. She could feel the blade sink into his flesh, the warmth of the blood spreading rapidly and soaking the fabric, staining her own skin while she guided him down to the ground. He went down much more easily than the Joker had — but then, Jason didn't know how to fight. He fought his battles with words and puppet strings, not weapons.

"Yeah, Red!" Harley cried, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Wade joined her, cheering with his hands cupped around his mouth.

Ivy didn't look around at them; she was watching Jason writhe in the dirt, clutching his stomach. The world seemed to narrow around her until he was all she could focus on, just his anguished form and the blood seeping through his clothes. She let him groan and wriggle for a little while longer before crouching down, balanced on her tiptoes, and pressing her fist onto his chest to keep him still. The knife's bloodied blade stuck up between her fingers.

"What is Venom?" she asked in a low voice, lifting the stolen bottle of greenish liquid into his field of vision. "Tell me, Jason. Are you working with Hydra?"

Jason's face drained of color.

"Yes, I know about Hydra. I know what they did to dead tributes, among other things. Are you helping them? Lying to our district about rebuilding after the war? Hiding away in your lab with your little twisted experiments?" With each question, she lifted her fist and dropped it against Jason's chest to emphasise her point, making him whine in pain. It was funny how all his smarm and smiling was gone now. He just looked weak — and scared.

She liked that.

"It… it's a steroid," he choked out at last. "Designed to increase… strength. They were working on something like it years ago…"

Ivy scowled. "Miraclo?"

Jason nodded. "Almost all of it was destroyed, but I… I've been trying to recreate the formula."

"And what are they going to use it for, if you succeed?" Ivy's frown grew deeper as she imagined the sort of havoc Hydra could wreak across Marvel with an army of super-strong soldiers at their disposal. "No, don't answer that. I don't want to know. Tell me if you've gotten close."

Grimacing, Jason shook his head. "It's nowhere near, not yet…" His gaze flickered between Ivy's face and the fizzing, frothing bottle.

"So you don't know what it does to a person?" Carefully, Ivy rearranged herself so she was kneeling beside him, then rested the bottle in her lap and leaned in close to whisper in Jason's ear.

There was a moment when all she could hear was her own heartbeat and Jason's fractured breathing. She hadn't been this close to him for a long, long time. He smelled familiar, but she didn't feel even the tiniest pull toward him anymore. She just wanted him gone.

She breathed her next words gently, softly, letting them wash over him.

"Let's find out together."

He tried to fight her — she'd thought he might, even if his grip was weak and he could barely get up. He grabbed her arms and tried to hold on, but she easily unstoppered the bottle and forced his lips apart to tip the Venom down his throat. She clamped her hand over his mouth and pinched his nose until he was forced to swallow it, moaning and shaking, scrabbling to get her away from him.

"I was here, on Reaping Day," she said, still in that same gentle tone over Jason's muffled screams. "You tore me from my babies, my mother and father, everything I knew, because you wanted me for yourself? In realizing what I could really do during the Games, would I then think I was finally good enough for you? What kind of broken little man thinks that way?"

Her chest was filled with a feeling of euphoria at this newfound power she held over this man, this bastard who'd ruined her life. Such satisfaction, to hold his life and death in her hands, while she said everything she'd been wanting to say for a long, long time.

"I thought I loved you once, and you destroyed me because I didn't want to mold myself to your ideal. Then you sent me off to the arena, thinking I'd come back changed, ready to be with you." She kissed the back of her own hand, not touching his lips, while he started to twitch in pain beneath her. "I changed, Jason, but not for you. I am not your Pamela anymore. I am Poison Ivy, and you will die by my hand."

She stood up and stepped away to join Harley and Wade, breathing hard and feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders that she hadn't even known was there. Harley entwined her fingers with hers, and they watched in silence as the Venom took hold of Jason's body.

It was gruesome. He convulsed, screaming, blood still spurting from his wound, his limbs jerking this way and that as if they were really controlled by puppet strings. His skin seemed to bubble, grotesque bulges rising and falling all over him like he was suddenly made of boiling water. Veins swelled and wriggled like worms through soil, and when he managed to turn his head and actually look at Ivy for one last time, she saw burst capillaries had turned his eyes completely red.

"Pamela!" He gasped her old name in agony. Even at the end, it seemed he couldn't understand who she was. "Please!"

Ivy shook her head.

A great and terrible scream tore its way from Jason's throat before he finally stopped twitching, and silence fell over the Poison Patch.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. Jason's motionless body seemed to have shrunk, like the Venom had drained him of everything vital and left behind a shrivelled husk of purplish skin. After a long moment of nobody doing anything but staring at what had once been Jason Woodrue, Wade crept across the garden and knelt beside the corpse, checking for any signs of life.

"I think his heart gave out," he announced, then looked at Ivy in awe. "That was brutal, dandelioness. Teensy bit melodramatic, maybe, but I'd give you a solid B-plus. I may never touch you again."

"Whaddaya wanna do with him?" Harley asked, chewing her bottom lip again even as she was smiling. She squeezed Ivy's hand, seeming to know the sheer scale of the number of emotions coursing through her.

Ivy paused for a moment, thinking. There seemed to be an obvious conclusion. "Leave him to rot," she said at last, gazing at the corpse with disdain. "He can help bring my garden back to life."


	64. Chapter 64: Break Your Word

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! Let's tie off April by checking in on District Four and the fallout of the drama there ;) InDeepDarkWood and her Diana are here to end the month with a bang!**

 **As always, thank you to the writers who reviewed. Thanks to Practically an Avenger (I think you're right... Harley/Wade is the only crossover ship! Nice catch) and TheRaspberryVigilante41 (seriously, Abby's flowery writing is a treasure to us and we tell her so often) for being rock stars! We love you!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Four - Break Your Word**

 **Diana Prince of District Four**

 **District Four**

 **Written by InDeepDarkWood**

* * *

" _It is never wrong to do what is right." ―_ Gift Gugu Mona

* * *

"You're blushing," Kaldur observed.

Diana felt like she was floating. It was a very strange experience, and it reminded her of adrenaline-fuelled battle, when everything was sharp and bright and focused. She scowled deeply at Kaldur's words; he had the gall to stare back unflinching.

"Have you just been standing there all this time?" she asked, the expression dropping from her face, washed away by the tide of other emotions. She could not show anger to Kaldur, not when her heart still burned from John's kiss and her mind still danced in celebration. "I am not blushing. This is my usual complexion."

"Garth can probably see it from where he stands," Kaldur said, scoffing.

Diana cast a look over his shoulder, where Garth was packing up their boating tools. He waved at her, then made a twisting motion with his hand around his neck and hung up an imaginary noose. Even at a distance, Diana could see the dark-haired boy was smiling.

"I have better things than standing idly by while you ponder how to break the news to Arthur," Kaldur added, jerking his head toward Garth. "I was finishing up our project."

"And informing your friend of our failed relationship?" she asked, repeating the hangman's mime.

"Aye, Garth is my brother. He will not tell a soul before we tell my king."

"And my queen," Diana finished, feeling a little of the burn from the kiss snuff out at the thought. "It would not be right to keep Arthur waiting for bad news." She brushed away unseen dust, briskly patting her thighs, bending over to re-tie her lace. Straightening up, she caught Kaldur's gaze on her footwear and tilted her chin up. "I thought it a little more formal than bare feet."

"At least you have not completely thrown caution to the wind," he replied, gesturing toward Arthur and Mera's home. "Come. Let us face the music."

Diana's emotions were once again at war with themselves, though even through the struggle between her relief at John's acceptance of her and the dread of breaking the news to her family and the Atlanteans, she remained calmer than her earlier outburst of emotion. She took a few deep breaths as she walked up to Arthur's house. She had been given the opportunity to be a leader. She had had one, ridiculous moment of swimming from those responsibilities, and that was done now. She was back to being ready to be the leader Four wanted. _Just not joined to the one planned,_ she thought, shooting a look toward Kaldur. Despite the conversation that awaited them, he seemed to share her air of contentment, as though a burden had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Remember: I support this decision. Don't think that I fear my king enough to remain silent while you take the fall," Kaldur said firmly. Diana reached over and gave his upper arm a brief squeeze. This was why Odin had picked them. Not because he thought they would lead tied together but because he knew they could be brother-and-sister-in-arms. It was a little sad, she reflected, that she was beginning to understand Odin's decisions after he had passed into shadow. She would not get to tell him she had wronged him.

Diana had only been in Arthur's home twice before, yet she knew the layout from Hippolyta's descriptions — likely in case they decided to attack. When Kaldur suggested Arthur and Mera would be in the receiving hall, Diana had no need for guidance, and she and Kaldur walked side by side. Just before the door, Diana reached for Kaldur again, gripping him tight enough that he stopped mid-stride.

"Are you certain you can go through with this?" she asked. Kaldur gave her a single, solemn nod. "You will lose everything, Kaldur. You, a diver, an heir to the Atlantean mantle. You would give up all that you have worked for?"

Perhaps before the Games, before he died, before they had become close, Kaldur would have curled his lip at the potential insult to the words. Diana meant no offense by her statement of fact, though she felt a hint of relief to see that his expression didn't change, and he made no move to shake her hand away.

"You can choose to be angry alongside Arthur, if you wish to keep your position," she said.

At those words, Kaldur did brush her off, severing the connection, but it was a gentle movement. "We have been worried about dishonoring our peoples with this dissolution, Diana. There will be far less of a blow if I stand by this decision than there would be if I did something as callous as that." Kaldur nodded. "No, I have made my peace." He kept his gaze on her for a moment, as though solidifying the decision. Diana was brought back to her memory of him lying before her, her blade at his throat, watching her wrestle with a decision while he had already made his choice.

 _I will make the same choice today,_ she decided — and then knocked on the door.

Diana walked in beside Kaldur, suppressing a look of dismay as she realized Arthur and Mera were not alone. There were a handful of divers and other folk in a line. Arthur was holding court after his stint of sailing to flush out Hydra agents. He caught their appearance and gave them a nod of acknowledgement — which Diana returned — then resumed his concentration on the pair of divers before him. Diana and Kaldur moved to the end of the line and began to wait their turn.

Arthur was a fair ruler, she quickly realized. He listened to both parties if it was a grievance and seemed sympathetic toward direct questions at him. It was not dissimilar to watching her own mother hold council, and with each decision, the room oozed Four's mantra: honor, duty, justice. There was no questioning of the rulings. Occasionally, Mera and Arthur would have quiet murmurings about the case before a decision was made. _There will be no murmurings for my case,_ Diana thought as she and Kaldur approached the Sea King.

"Arthur," Diana began formally, placing her fist carefully over her heart and dropping down to her knee for a brief moment before straightening up. Kaldur was slower to rise, his deference deeper, but she could see Arthur noting the respect with a nod. "I wish to speak without an audience," she continued. Almost all of the hall had cleared anyway. She saw Arthur begin to shake his head when Mera leaned over and touched his arm.

"That can be arranged," Mera said, dismissing the rest of the people in the room with a smile. In another woman, Diana thought it might be condescending. Mera had a way about her, though. "I sense you would prefer privacy, Arthur."

"I don't wish to bring dishonor to your people, Arthur, or to mine. But I feel that if I don't say this now, I won't be able to claw myself out from the ruins," Diana said once the hall was clear.

Arthur was very quiet, his gaze trained on her, and she waited for him to respond. He simply moved his finger out in a gesture to continue.

"I have some unfortunate news. I have broken my engagement with Kaldur Ahm," Diana stated simply. In the corner of her eye, she saw Kaldur nod in agreement at her words. "I thought for our families to be at peace, your union was the only way forward. But I realized that it would not give _me_ peace." She looked toward Kaldur. "Or Kaldur Ahm."

At that, Mera leaned forward, more interested, though her gaze was on the steadfast Kaldur.

"You are a reasonable man, and you have an understanding of such matters of the heart. I know that you will see in time that it is only by honoring the heart that we can honor our peoples truly." She put her fist on her heart once more. "Our peoples' greetings all start the same. That in itself shows that unity is possible." Diana stood squarely, keeping her gaze on Arthur. "That unity will not come from the union between Kaldur and me. That will only come from the acceptance that we are all Four."

"You have accepted this severance?" Arthur asked, his gaze still locked with Diana but his question directed at Kaldur. She could see the anger in his eyes, the betrayal and the humiliation that he felt her news would bring.

She didn't expect the flash of shock that appeared as Kaldur answered, his voice clear as a bell, "We came to this decision together, my king. It is not acceptance that I wish to convey. It is conviction."

Diana half-expected Arthur to leap from his chair, raging, and shake Kaldur like a ragdoll, throwing him against the wall. She knew the Sea King had a temper, if her aunt's stories were anything to go by.

Instead, Arthur spoke clearly and without moving. "You side with this Prince instead of me?"

"I side with my heart," Kaldur said evenly. "We speak of our hearts as the sea and give love deference in our tales. Let us stand for what we say we stand for."

"And you, Odinsdottir?" Arthur asked, his hands curled on the armrests as though he were physically restraining himself. "Do you truly believe you can stand for us when you throw aside my counsel so easily?"

"Four needs a leader," Diana said matter-of-factly. "It cannot survive the change in the world. The tides have turned, and we must turn our sails with them." She dropped her fist from her chest. "If I am to lead Four, I have need of a council. Our legends have oft told of a High King, surrounded by the kings and queens of the lands."

"Stories," Arthur scoffed. "Designed to give people false hope."

" _They_ were the people who held the High King accountable," Diana continued sternly. "I have Hippolyta from the Amazons and Thor of Asgard, but I have no king from Atlantis. Do you expect your people to have no say because their king had too much pride to sit with the other two?" Diana allowed herself a short smile toward Mera, who smiled back in a half-knowing way. "I understand you must think on this. I would welcome you to the council, and I would also welcome Kaldur if you truly stand by your belief that he and I could move forward in unity. But know that whatever you decide, I will not be marrying Kaldur. The winds are changing on the horizon, Arthur. You would do well not to fight against them."

She dipped her head once more and strode out of the hall, marching right out into the grass. It was only once she had crossed the threshold that she allowed herself to take a big, shuddering breath, drinking in the fresh air. It took her a moment to realize Kaldur was standing beside her.

"You did not stay?"

"I will face Arthur's wrath soon enough," Kaldur said frankly. "He had more divers to speak with, the ones my queen dismissed at your request for privacy. While he is acting as king, I am acting as your friend and support." He paused and let his shoulders fall. "And dreading the coming storm."

"I didn't think he would be so silent when you spoke," Diana noted.

Kaldur caught her gaze squarely. "Don't be fooled, Diana. Arthur is a king, and he has the sense not to lose all dignity in front of a fellow leader. You saw him lead with admiration during his courts. He would not wish to tar that memory by tearing down the one who betrayed him." Kaldur let out a small sigh. "The sea is calling, but I have no wish to leave you to face your family alone."

"I can prevail," she responded. "No, I _shall_ prevail. Remember that, my trusted partner, if you hear the clang of swords while you are out on the ocean." She was rewarded with a small smile, and they parted in quiet, their atmosphere once more comfortable now that it didn't involve cheek kissing.

She had told John to meet her at her home for dinner. By her estimations, that gave her approximately one hour of dagger glares and thunderous looks before he had to come into the fray. Diana's heart was hammering again, and this time, it had nothing to do with John. Her adrenaline was still pumping from her announcement to Arthur, however, and her mind had that calm quality to it once more. _You are Diana Prince,_ she thought, entering her home to the sounds of her sister and mother pounding something into the table. _You are a leader, and you are an adult, capable of standing strong before her mother._

"Mother?" she called out, standing by the kitchen frame, her back to the wide view of the ocean. Hippolyta glanced up from the table; Diana recognized the round unbaked dough as the source of the previous pounding noise. Donna leaped from where she had been standing on the kitchen bench, her hands full of flour as she pulled Diana into a tight hug.

"What hour do you think this is?" Donna asked as she released her from the hug. She put her hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. "You did not return last night from your time at Thor's. Are you preferring that oaf over your own pure blood now?"

"Donna," Hippolyta warned.

Diana kept quiet about Donna's statement regarding blood and instead flicked her on the head, ruffling up her hair. "Aye, Donna. Thor breaks far more things than you, so I spend much more time cleaning up after him."

Donna gave Diana a little smirk at the words.

"Did you meet Antiope? She was returning from there also," Hippolyta asked.

"I have been coming from Arthur Curry's home, Mother," Diana corrected.

Hippolyta paused in her kneading. "I see. Donna, I thought you were turning this dough into arrows." Donna skipped back over to the table and began creating shapes with the older woman as Hippolyta's fingers moved with practiced ease. Diana remembered making arrow bread in years previous. "Is Kaldur joining us?" Hippolyta asked.

"Hmm?"

"Is Kaldur joining us for dinner, then?" Hippolyta repeated. "I presume you saw him. It would be disrespectful not to invite your betrothed for a meal."

"Ah." For a moment, Diana was at an utter loss for words. _Adult,_ she reminded herself. _Leader._ She straightened up even more. "Kaldur won't be coming for dinner."

Hippolyta stiffened almost imperceptibly. "Is he ill?" she asked as a noise from the outside of the house heralded Antiope's arrival. Diana grimaced at the timing.

"No. He is just—" She broke off, feeling her stomach drop to her boots. "Kaldur is no longer my betrothed."

The piece of dough Hippolyta had been working on split down the middle with the force of her pound. "Diana Prince, you will have to repeat yourself," Hippolyta said quietly, "as I heard a very foolish statement, and it needs some clarification." Diana heard Antiope walk through the door behind her. Donna flashed the older woman a cut-off signal before she even had the chance to say a greeting.

"I have decided not to marry Kaldur Ahm," Diana said.

"What in Hades' name are you uttering?" Hippolyta asked.

"Are you serious?" Antiope asked behind her.

"Aye, I am very serious," Diana answered with a grave nod. "I do not love Kaldur in a way that would make me happy."

"What does that have _anything_ to do with this matter?" Hippolyta asked incredulously. "You have agreed to this. You have announced it to our peoples. This is the best thing—"

"—for Four," Diana interrupted. "I know that. But it is not the best thing—"

"—for Diana," Donna finished.

"Hush, Donna, you know nothing of such matters," Antiope admonished, moving around to stand by Hippolyta. The two sisters squared off against her. Diana lifted her chin, her expression fixed.

"You will disgrace our family," Hippolyta said. "You will look utterly weak in your leadership role if you are to be so flighty as to sever a tie so quickly."

"How can our people look at you to make decision when you cannot make a decision about your own life and stick with it?" Antiope asked.

The tension in the air crackled.

"I _am_ making a decision about my own life, Aunt," Diana said in a rather cool voice. "A decision had been made _for_ me, and I _chose_ not to be forced by others but to forge my own path. I thought that would be the most honorable thing for me to do. I cannot lead honorably if I don't show honor to myself." _Heimdall was right,_ she thought with conviction.

"You have broken your word with the Atlanteans and will cause all of our people to lose their trust in you." Hippolyta was seething. The dough was in ruins on the table.

"Kaldur could also see this match wasn't the right fit," Diana insisted. "He agreed with my desire to call it off. How can we be tied to each other when we don't love each other in that way?"

"You are young," Hippolyta said, snorting. "You know nothing of love and loss. Love is not that wild and headstrong emotion you feel in your youth. Love is knowing your duty to your partner. Love is knowing you are supported. Love is knowing that you _honor_ your partner and _don't break your vows._ "

Diana's face flushed, and her hand clenched into a fist. "I have not made vows to be broken, Mother," she growled. "And I happen to think that sometimes, love is more important than honor."

"You are a Prince, Diana. You should value honor above all else."

"Don't let that Asgardian way of thinking creep into your head," Antiope added.

Diana's eyes narrowed as she threw a furious look Antiope's way, and she opened her mouth, ready to spit vitriol in her blood relative's direction.

"I thought all you wanted was for us to be happy, Mother," Donna chipped in suddenly.

"You can be happy doing your duty for your people, Donna," Hippolyta said, her words barbed. "I thought I had taught Diana that."

"I was taught to do the right thing. _This_ is the right thing." Diana was firm.

"No, it is not. Perhaps you should not have been my successor if you think so little of honoring your family," Hippolyta replied.

Diana's eyes widened at the words, and she grit her teeth. "I think I have shown my worth, if not in the years past then at the very least these past few months."

"You changed in the Games," Donna noted. "I think it was your friends. Right, Antiope? You think she's changed too."

"Not for the better, it would seem."

"No," Donna said, moving over to stand beside Diana, grasping her hand and caking it in flour. Both sets of sisters stared across the room at each other. "I got to watch Diana and all her friends, and then just Diana and John, and I got to see that she got _better_. I want to be like Diana when I take on adult respon...duties." She shot her mother a fierce look. "Because _I love her_ , and other people _love her too_ , honor-bound or no."

There was a heavy silence in the kitchen. Diana thought it stretched to an age. Hippolyta was clearly still raging inside. Antiope's expression had taken on a more thoughtful tone.

"So, you will go this path of leadership alone?" Antiope asked eventually.

Diana balked at the words, casting a quick glance out into the open area around the house, then back to Antiope. "In a way," she said carefully. "I will have a council. Leaders of the three sections. Some trusted advisors: Heimdall, Kaldur will be present, John, you." She gestured at Antiope for the last word, but Hippolyta had fixed her interest on another.

"John? The miner from Twelve?"

"Oh, _Oh,_ I like him," Donna said eagerly. "He's nice. He's one of _those_ people." At her mother's blank look, she let out an exasperated sigh. "The 'other people' that love her too, Mother," she explained. Diana thought she caught an eyeroll from her little sister and gave her a warning dig with the hand that was still holding hers.

"What has a miner from Twelve got to do with anything that goes on in Four?" Hippolyta asked, ignoring her younger child.

"Well, there are other refugees in Four," Diana said in defense. "The stylists and—"

"You mean to say," Hippolyta interrupted her, ignoring her pitiful attempt at redirecting, "that you are bring disgrace to our family, permanently ruining our relationship with Arthur Curry and Mera, because of the affections of a _miner_?"

"She's perceptive," Donna said solemnly, then dropped her voice to a whisper. "John taught me that word yesterday!"

"Perhaps, Mother, if you gave him a chance, you would see that there is more to him than being a miner," Diana said tightly. "After all, you gave Kaldur Ahm the time, and he was a _diver._ " There was some movement outside the window, and she drew her gaze out. John was making his way hurriedly toward the house, slightly later than anticipated. "Donna, would you please go and greet our guest?"

Donna let out a little laugh as she raced out of the tense kitchen to bring John back into it.

"I have invited John to share a meal with us, Mother. I hope you will show him the courtesy that _all_ our guests receive when they dine with us." Both maintained eye contact while Diana spoke, and it was Hippolyta that broke off first at the sounds of John and Donna returning to the kitchen. Donna was practically dragging John by the arm, chattering freely.

"How's your axe? Did you sharpen it? You know, you really need to work on your hand-to-hand combat, it's very poor. You only seem to have one good arm from your axe. Why don't I give you a few pointers?"

"Ah, yeah, sure, maybe tomorrow?" John suggested, as though he had been attempting to answer since they had met and was now only getting the chance as Donna took a much-needed breath. He looked around the kitchen as they came through, his gaze resting on Diana. She could feel the tension in her shoulders, the tight expression on her face, relax slightly as he flashed her a small, encouraging smile.

Before his gaze could linger on her too long, he turned his head away, straightening up under Hippolyta's gaze. His clothes looked clean, and Diana thought he may have asked Eira, his neighbor, for some extra cleaning supplies for the occasion.

"Thank you, Hippolyta, for the invitation to your home," John said in an unusually stiff voice.

"You are most welcome," she responded. Diana had expected a scornful retort, but the roots of hospitality ran deep in her blood, and Hippolyta was no different. "Would you like to sit?"

"That'd be great, thanks. It's bloody hard work on the back getting those docks in order," John said in a much more relaxed tone, wisely making no comment on the scattered dough mashed into the table.

"You are clearly not lifting from the knees, then," Antiope informed him, as though she couldn't help but teach.

"Yeah, that's what I thought when I was doing the bridges, so I started bending at the knees." John shrugged. "This new body must really be old; the knees were done in after a week of that."

Donna let out a little laugh at the words, silenced quickly by a look from Hippolyta. John shot Diana a look, and this time, it was she who gave him the little encouraging smile.

"What do you think of Four, John?" Antiope asked. It seemed like a friendly question, though her tone suggested otherwise. For a district that opened their doors to guests, Diana thought they really were a mistrustful bunch toward outsiders.

"I love it," John replied, his gaze fixed on Diana. "Twelve was never my home. I don't know why I felt like that. I guess I didn't have a reason for it to be a home. With Four, I do. I love its people, its landscape. I love its culture—"

"—Its leader," Donna supplied helpfully. Diana flushed at the words, though she couldn't help but notice the way John's features glowed with the statement. The reaction was not lost on Antiope and Hippolyta. "See, Mother, John doesn't say he _honors_ its people or _honors_ its landscape—"

"—Hush, Donna," Diana said sharply.

"And why do you love its leader, John?" Hippolyta asked, her words icy, waiting for him to slip up. "The glory? The honor of being close to someone of rank?"

"No. I love its leader because she doesn't just think of the group as a whole," John said. "She came up to me, before the Games, and she saw something in me that made me be the best damn version of myself I could be. It's a bloody selfish reason why I love her."

"Do you not think that if you loved her, you would let her do the honorable thing for her family?" Hippolyta interrogated him. Before John had the chance to reply, Diana cut him off.

"He did, Mother. He let me go. If I had done the same thing, I would never have forgiven myself." Diana strode over to John and took his hand. It was warm and firm and calloused from the manual labor. "You said that love is about being supported. When I am with John, I feel like I am capable of anything. He is the face I want to see last at night, and he is the face I want to see first when I rise. He shows me the best path to take. I cannot think of anyone who I would want to walk beside more."

She had felt John's body stiffen under her hand as she spoke, and she glanced down at him, wondering if she had said something to offend him in some way. He was looking directly at Hippolyta, but Diana could see the corner of his lips curled into a small, incredulous-looking smile, as though her words were an unexpected surprise.

"You will be responsible for the consequences of this match and your previous decisions," Hippolyta said sternly after a moment. Her gaze moved from John to Diana and back again. "You will have to face it directly without shying away from your duties, and you will accept the maelstrom that will follow." Diana gave her a short nod. Hippolyta rolled her shoulders once, then began to gather up the spattered dough.

"Now then, John, do you have a keen eye for arrow bread?"


	65. Chapter 65: Family Ties

**A/N - Welcome BACK, it's a beautiful Friday morning and a what better way to start May off in our updates than by peeking in on Cheshire Cat, brought to us as always by the lovely tvfan69.**

 **Many thanks to our authors who took the time to review, and a big, warm shoutout to The Raspberry Vigilante, who has to be our A1 Rockstar for this book - we love to see your thoughts and how the chapter impacted you, and we agree, TRV - a flustered Diana is a fun Diana. Thank you so much for your support!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Five - Family Ties**

 **Jade Nguyen, Formerly of District Ten**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written By tvfan69**

* * *

 _I've dealt with my ghosts and faced all my demons_

 _Finally content with a past I regret_

 _I've found you find strength in your moments of weakness_

 _For once I'm at peace with myself_

 _I've been burdened with blame, trapped in the past for too long_

 _I'm movin' on_

\- Rascal Flatts: _I'm movin' on_

* * *

Red had passed out the moment they got to the transport; clearly, he had been staying awake out of pure survival instinct for far too long. Barbara had buckled him in next to Jade and given Jade some gauze and antiseptic from the transport's first-aid kit so she could give him a fresh bandage, if she could handle it.

She almost couldn't.

Jade was by no means squeamish. She had stitched both herself and others up plenty of times, but when she undid that blood-soaked piece of cloth that was tied haphazardly around the stump of his bicep, she almost threw up. His skin, what was left of it, was torn and tangled with muscle, tendons, and dangling bits of unidentifiable flesh. She had been hesitant to even touch it, and in the end, she'd forgone the antiseptic, knowing full well that someone else would be going over the wound as soon as they got back to the Howlett Estate. The last thing she wanted was for the sting of antiseptic to wake Red up.

As it was, it was still a small miracle he didn't wake up just by her changing the gauze pad and bandage.

When they got back to the Howlett Estate, Jade helped Barbara bring Red down to the medical set up in the basement while Scott helped Bobby. As soon as the group walked through the doors, it was like the entire house had flipped a chaos switch. Mrs. Hopkins was the first to greet them, because of course she was, and as soon as she laid eyes on the two new guests, she had all but sounded the alarm. No sooner were they in the entry than anybody in the estate with medical training had shown up to usher them down to the makeshift hospital in the furthest wing, and Jade was promptly ushered out. Something she did not appreciate.

Jade tried going back in, and Scott immediately blocked her path. She did question, within the confines of her own mind, why he and Barbara were allowed to stay there while she was booted out. Then again, considering how she had reacted to simply changing his bandage...

She trudged down the long halls and up the stairs, then the second flight, and then the third, with the intentions of going into her bedroom to sleep until someone came and told her she was allowed back in the medical wing. And it was her intention to do so. At least until she walked by Artemis's closed door and heard the sound of sniffling coming from the other side.

Jade quietly groaned to herself, hoping not to tip off Artemis, and debated for a moment whether or not to go inside. On one hand, she was confident Artemis wasn't hurt. Artemis hadn't looked like she'd gotten hit by anything in their escape, and Jade had checked Artemis over on the transport just to be sure.

On the other hand, however, the sound briefly transported her mind back to the Hydra compound and Artemis sitting in a cave of a bottom bunk looking away from her and wiping her tears as soon as they came, and Jade couldn't escape how much she had hated that sight.

With a sigh and a pinch at the bridge of her nose, Jade raised her hand up to her sister's door and knocked lightly.

"Artemis?" She called out, listening for any break in Artemis's crying on the other side or really any indication at all that she'd been heard. "Artemis? Can I come in?"

At first, she still wasn't sure if Artemis had heard her, but then she heard a faint shuffling of feet coming toward the door. Jade waited patiently until the handle finally turned and opened wide enough for her to see her little sister.

Artemis' eyes were red, and her cheeks were flushed and wet with tears.

"Artemis?" Jade asked, but she only got a sniffle in response. "Artemis, what's wrong?" Still nothing, and despite the door being mostly in the way and their height difference not really being all that great, Jade bent down to better look her sister in the eye. "Artemis what's wrong? Roy's going to be fine."

Artemis sniffled again. "I shouldn't have let Dad get me."

Her words were so low Jade had to strain to hear them, and she still wasn't sure she'd heard them right. "What?"

"I shouldn't have let Dad get me," Artemis repeated, "If… If I'd been more careful. Maybe… Maybe Roy wouldn't have…" She cut herself off then, with a fit of sobs, and Jade reached over to push the door the rest of the way open. Artemis fought against her as Jade guided her into her arms, but eventually Jade won out and found her sister clinging to her as though she were a lifeline.

"Now you listen to me," Jade whispered firmly into Artemis' tangled blonde hair. "Roy was supposed to take care of you, not the other way around."

But that didn't seem to make Artemis feel any better, and as she cried against her chest, Jade slowly walked both of them back into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind her. She guided Artemis to the bed, stopping only once they were there. She leaned forward until Artemis took the hint and sat down. Jade only let go of her when it was time to get herself onto the bed, and after that, she was quick to pull her sister back into her arms. "He's ok," Jade whispered, hoping her voice was some semblance of comfort. In truth, there was a part of her that wasn't sure if she believed that. Maybe he wasn't going to be okay; he was in pretty rough shape.

But she had to believe it — for all of their sakes, she had to.

It ended up being hours, long after Artemis had drifted off to sleep and Jade had even gotten in a nap herself, before Mrs. Hopkins came and told her that Roy had been stabilized, was awake, and Jade could go and see him.

Jade had sprung up immediately, but somewhere around the second floor of the house, she began to move a little slower, and by the time she reached the door to the basement, she had been moving at a snail's pace.

What was she supposed to say to him?

She had hugged him in the lab, and while that could certainly be shrugged off as something she did in the heat of the moment when she was happy to see him alive, she had also hugged him back in the courtroom after the Reaping. The two of them — they just didn't do things like that.

 _Okay_ , Jade thought to herself, _that one could probably be shrugged off too_. But so much had changed since they that day, and maybe Jade would rather not brush off those instances.

"First things first," Jade said to herself with an irritated growl. "Make sure he's going to live, and if he is, kill him for letting Lawrence take Artemis."

Yeah, that was a plan.

With renewed confidence, Jade turned the knob on the door and started her way down the stairs to the mansion's medical facilities. She hadn't gone down to medical yet in her time being there; she didn't have any reason to. But when she got there, she was pleasantly surprised by what she found.

The main room that greeted her was spacious and clean, with a few hospital beds lined up against one wall facing the tall windows. The curtains around them were drawn, showing that there was no one in the little triage area. As she walked in a little deeper, she could see through the door beyond the beds to where all the diagnostics and drugs were being stored. It was clear that SHIELD had made sure that the makeshift base was fully stocked for any emergency that came up. Even those that fell on the more gruesome side.

And Red's certainly did.

As Dr. Simmons directed her toward his room, Jade got her first real look at him since the Reaping, which felt like years ago. The torture chamber of a lab they'd rescued him from had been dark, and they'd been on a clock, so she hadn't had much time to take in his appearance. But now, in the light?

He'd been scrubbed down once he'd arrived in medical, but the first thing Jade noticed was that his hair had grown out — a lot. The once closely-trimmed spikes now hung down by his eyes in tendrils, parted on either side by his ears and then down the back of his neck. His face was now home to a patchy, scruffy beard, and even from across the room, she could smell nothing beyond the overwhelming antiseptic soap that he'd been washed up with.

Jade also noted that he was skinnier, which was alarming, considering he had always been on the scrawny side of their peer group, even by Ten's standards.

Red's gaze raked over her at the same rate hers did with him, and while she had never been one to feel self-conscious, she wondered if he could tell that her body wasn't the same one she'd left Ten in. That knowledge still messed with _her_ sometimes. He _had_ to notice her hair; long and hanging loose, in a way she never wore it back home. But she had changed a lot in these few months. The rest, she wasn't sure if he noticed, but when he was finally done sizing her up, he looked at her with so much hope and confusion in his eyes... With Artemis, that was one thing, but with him, she had no idea what to say.

So, she decided she might as well fall back on old habits.

"You look like hell," Jade told him bluntly.

His expression was surprised for a moment before he smirked. "You don't," he said. "Thought the Games were supposed to destroy most people?"

She shrugged and started to make her way for one of the banks of drawers near the tall window in his room. "What can I say?" She couldn't help the slight purr that came into her voice, a familiar teasing when it came to her and Red coming back already. "I'm not most people."

Finally, Jade found what she was looking for — a pair of scissors — and when she turned away from the dresser to face him, his expression went from a weak smirk to a healthy dose of fear and confusion. "You look like hell," Jade repeated by way of explanation, and when he didn't say anything, she hefted herself up onto the edge of the bed.

She moved to get behind him, lightly pushing him out of her way until she was settled behind him. She combed through his hair twice with her fingers before coming to the realization that this was going to take a while, and then she placed the scissors down on the small table on the side of the bed.

"Ow," he sneered in protest after she gave his head a particularly hard yank. "That hurts."

"Your hair is a mess."

"Sorry; it wasn't really a top priority during captivity."

She frowned but ultimately chose not to entertain his tone. She didn't want a fight. Teasing was one thing, but after everything they'd been though these past few months, she didn't want to fight with him.

They sat in silence, with Jade combing her fingers through his mangled hair as gently as she could. He grunted a few times, his body tensed with a wince that he dropped as soon as her hands moved and then picked back up again not long later. She winced a few times too. She didn't want to hurt him, and the tangles in his hair didn't have to be perfectly untangled, but she didn't want to chop out the knots and have it come out irreparably uneven.

He finally broke the silence — and not with sarcasm. "You died."

She paused in her brushing, if only for a second, before she shrugged and continued on. "I did," she confirmed. "But apparently, SHIELD figured out a way to raise the dead."

He twisted in front of her, forcing her hands out of his hair as he turned to look at her with an expression of disbelief, despite her being right in front of him. "They brought you back?"

She pursed her lips, debating what to tell him. It would be so easy to pretend that was how it happened. All the pieces would fit; she was there at SHIELD now, and they _were_ the ones who created the technology in the first place. He would never have to know about Hydra or their assassin training, about Lawrence. She could pretend none of it ever happened. But, really, she couldn't.

"No," Jade said simply, angling his head back to its previous position as she resumed combing her fingers through the last of the snarls. "Hydra stole the tech from them and, surprise, surprise, Father of the Year was on Hydra's payroll."

"Your dad brought you back?" he asked, a surprise in his voice that she certainly couldn't fault him for.

"He needed a weapon," Jade growled. Finally satisfied with her work, she reclaimed the scissors and began carefully snipping at his long locks. "But he's gone now." When another few seconds passed by in silence, she added; "I killed him."

He didn't tense at her admission, at least not that she could feel, and she didn't either. Instead, she kept cutting his hair, her attention focused on making the strands as even as she could. But still, the tension in the room felt like it had amplified tenfold. The only sound was of the periodic snip of her scissors, followed by more silence until she used them again.

"They brought you back," Red finally said. "Can they…?"

"I don't think so," she answered quickly; she didn't have any desire to hear that question asked in full. "I drove a sai through his skull, made sure his brain was destroyed so that they wouldn't be able to salvage his mind for anything."

"Shit, Jade," he breathed out. "He was your dad—"

"He was a monster."

"I know," Red promptly assured her. "But he shouldn't have been. You shouldn't have had to do that."

She paused for a moment, his hair held firmly in one hand and the scissors in the other. "There are a lot of things that shouldn't have happened." She gave his hair another snip, and with that, they moved back into silence.

They stayed quiet throughout the rest of the time it took her to cut his hair, and when she was finally done, she maneuvered herself out from behind him. She looked at her handiwork and then returned to the drawers to put the scissors away.

"How's Artemis?" Red finally asked, and while the question did bring about an anger inside of her, she also squashed that down easily; it wasn't his fault.

"She's tough," Jade answered. "She's a little shaken up about what happened to you, but she'll be fine." She turned, leaning her weight against the drawers and folding her arms over her chest. "How's the arm?"

He scowled, unimpressed, and then looked at his freshly bandaged stump as if to confirm it was there, that Osborn hadn't taken more from him. "Okay, I guess — what's left of it, anyway. Dr. Simmons said something about getting me a prosthetic. She and her partner, Fitz, said SHIELD has some that look and feel real; it may as well be a new arm."

Jade nodded; it didn't surprise her. If they could build entirely new bodies and put the consciousnesses of former tributes into them; then they could easily replace an arm.

The two of them proceeded to spend the following few minutes staring at each other, neither of them sure what exactly they were supposed to say next, though it was Red that broke that silence as well. "What now?"

Jade hummed as if that weren't the question of the hour. She wasn't trying to get much news being holed up here, but even if she was actively avoiding it, she was getting the sense that the revolution might be nearing its end. She was a trained killer with a clean bill of health and no reason to betray SHIELD; if the revolution were still in full swing, they would likely be sending her on more missions.

"Mrs. Hopkins told me that once the revolution is over, we'll be leaving here, on our own if we like. So far, I've just been planning to go back to Ten." She hadn't really been planning that so much as she couldn't come up with any better ideas. The idea to join SHIELD had crossed her mind once — she had to be close to old enough, and she was sure that, by the end of this, they would have a few slots to fill. But, if she was being honest with herself, that idea wasn't very enticing. For one thing, she still wasn't sure she trusted them, and for another, she didn't see the attraction to helping people.

She wasn't a monster — at least that's what she told herself — and maybe those feelings were the product of a scarred and damaged mind that had been nurtured by Lawrence and her mother, who had stood idly by throughout all the abuse. But that only furthered her reasoning that she shouldn't do it. She needed time to heal and figure out who she was away from all the violence.

"Sounds like a plan," Red replied, pulling her from her thoughts.

* * *

As the weeks went by, the revolution did wind down. Jade and Red spent their time more or less planning out their immediate future. They were going with Artemis back to her and Jade's old house, maybe to fix it up a little and try to move on with their lives.

Well, after making one pit stop.

"The medical stuff here is cool and all, but you won't believe what Hank's got!" Gar was practically bouncing with excitement; he hadn't stopped talking about the medical equipment and work he and McCoy were doing for the entirety of the three hours he'd been back.

One might even go so far as to say finding out Red had lost his arm was the best news the young teenager had ever received.

He bounded out the front steps to the transport, after giving Mrs. Hopkins a crushing hug, and Hank followed behind him at a much tamer pace.

"What he's trying to say is that you're in good hands," Hank said, clasping Roy on the shoulder.

Roy grunted and then adjusted the strap of his bag that ran across his body and followed Gar's path.

Hank remained where he was, his gaze falling to Jade with a slight, affectionate smile. "I told Charles that you would be with me for a few days. He's very busy right now, but he wanted me to tell you he says hello — and he is pleased that you're doing so well."

She would deny it later, but the corners of her mouth tipped up for just a second. It was as McCoy went to join the boys waiting outside that Artemis came bounding down the stairs, finally, and when Jade looked back from her sister to the door, she saw a familiar SHIELD agent coming into the house.

"I was afraid I missed you," Shayera said, nodding to Mrs. Hopkins as she entered.

"Missed us? Why do you need us?" Jade asked and Shayera chuckled before she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small device and handed it to Jade.

"In case Hydra or anyone else comes after you again," Shayera explained. "You can use this to get in touch with SHIELD. Logan is making anyone who Hydra harassed a priority."

All Jade could do was gawk at the tiny piece of technology, her nose scrunched up in confusion. _Priority_ was not the term Jade's cynical mind immediately thought of but rather _pity case_. Still, she wasn't about to turn down a lifeline that could guarantee her and Artemis's safety from those bastards. "Thank you," Jade said, slipping the device into her pocket.

"Um..." Artemis, who had watched this whole exchange, shyly spoke up. "What about staying with SHIELD to help?"

Shayera blinked and looked at Jade, who closed her eyes out of frustration and willed herself not to drag Artemis off.

Thankfully, that was apparently enough to give Shayera the message.

"Keep in touch with Hank McCoy," Shayera said lightly. "He won't be far from you two. Take a few years, get settled. If, when you're older, you still want to join SHIELD, I'm sure Logan would be happy to find a place for you."

That wasn't exactly reassuring for Jade. After _everything,_ she just wanted to keep Artemis far away from all this. But her sister lit up in a way she hadn't in a very long time, so Jade simply thanked Shayera and ushered Artemis out the door.

Mrs. Hopkins had her chin tipped up with a proud look on her face as she hugged them both good-bye, followed quickly by Alfred doing the same. "Take care, girls!" Mrs. Hopkins said in a tight voice as they made for the transport, with Alfred consoling her with a single tear in his eye.

Jade was the last one to board the transport, and looking back at the Howlett Estate through the windows as it disappeared from view, Jade conceded to the fact that it was the first place she had ever left that she was going to miss.


	66. Chapter 66: Black And White And Red All

**A/N - Thanks again to TheRaspberryVigilante41 and our authors who took the time to read and review! Your support keeps us pushing to finish this trilogy, and it is deeply appreciated! TRV - We too thought it was a little bittersweet, but Jade has to live her life - as does everyone else in the story, so how about we peek in on a favorite trio - Harley, Wade, and Ivy!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Six - Black and White and Red All Over**

 **Harleen Quinzel, Formerly of District Eight**

 **District Eleven**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _Memories warm you up from the inside. But they also tear you apart." ― Haruki Murakami_

* * *

Harley was _still_ riding the high from watching Ivy kill her giant creep. She was really on a roll. First Jack, then Jason … _who could be next?_ The little crowd of hangers-on from earlier had started to trickle out from the woodworks — their job of distraction was done, after all — and it was clear that some 'a them cuties wanted to see a real-live Poison Ivy.

But as the group of kids and well-wishers — and Moss — swarmed over to Ivy's hesitant smile and Harley's welcoming arms, the little group was interrupted by a very angry and very serious-looking, tall, bald-headed warrior woman.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she demanded as a line of identically-dressed warrior women lined up on either side of her — all of them angry-looking.

"Ooooh! I love yer hair!" Harley squealed. "I can't tell you how many times I've thought about shavin' _my_ head when it gets all frizzy and tangly — _like right now!_ How do you _live_ wit' this much humidity?"

"You three have interfered with a Wakandan investigation," the woman said, stepping out of the line as the little kids and crowd scattered. "Who authorized you to kill that man?"

"Oh, wow," Wade said in a tone of pure reverence, breaking form from the girls and rushing forward, almost bowing as he approached her. "Oh… _wow_. You're in the Dora Milaje! It's such an _honor_ to meet you! You guys are, like .. the most elite warriors in all of Marvel!" He turned toward Harley "Honeybunch! _Dora Milaje!_ I heard all about them when we got ready to release the Black Panther back into the wild!"

The warrior narrowed her eyes at him. "Again: Who sent you here?"

Wade darted forward, and when she raised a spear, Wade grasped the end of it and shook it as if he was shaking hands. "Wade Wilson. Former sweetheart of former District One, formerly dead, formerly Tahiti'd, currently _very_ pleased to meet you. No one sent us. But … I really wish they had. I'm _such_ a fan of your … everything."

"This was really more of a vendetta than it was anything else," Harley supplied before she waved with the tips of her fingers and extended her hand. "Hiya, I'm Harley Quinn, pleased ta meetcha — and you are?"

The warrior tipped her chin up. "Okoye," she said. "Leader of the Dora Milaje and quickly losing patience at the lack of answers you are providing."

"Right, um … I also _formerly_ worked for SHIELD," Wade said, unconsciously stepping in front of Harley and Ivy. "I'm the guy that got T'Challa out of the brainwashing suite that Hydra had him all wrapped up in? Totes piggybacked him out of there. So. Um … Hi. Friend of Eleven and _huge fan of your work_." He glanced over his shoulder as he walked closer to Okoye. "So … Um … I kinda need to notify the director of what happened here—"

"You are here on _his_ authority?" Okoye asked, one eyebrow raised.

"No. Not exactly, no … I'll … okay, I'll explain everything — but I'll do it for you and _him_ at the same time."

"You are not going anywhere _near_ the king of Wakanda," Okoye said, cutting across him.

"Or … just you. That's fine. It really wasn't … it was just a kill the bad ex-boyfriend thing … not a political undermining of Eleven's sovereign hopes and dreams or SHIELD's big push to kill baddies. Promise." As he said it, he crossed his heart and held up his hand.

"It's really very simple," Harley supplied.

"Yeah, I just need a really big sheet of paper and a box of crayons — twenty-four colors if you've got it — and I'll draw you a chart," Wade said as he stepped into the custody of the Dora Milaje on his own. "Don't leave without me, snickerdoodles!"

"We won't!" Harley called back.

"We don't know how to fly the plane," Ivy added under her breath.

"That too," Harley giggled. "But … it'll give ya some time to decide what you wanna do."

As the Dora Milaje took Wade somewhere more secure to make his one phone call to his favorite victor, the little kids once again seemed to melt out of the woodworks. Harley didn't bother waiting to scoop up one of the smallest kids — a precious little boy with mismatching shoes. His hair was shaved close to his head, and his eyes were an ice-blue that contrasted sharply with his deep ebony complexion. "I swear you are the cutest little guy!" she said with a giggle as the little boy grinned at her. "You wanna meet Ivy?"

"Yes, please," he said, grinning wider as Harley took his hand and led him over to Ivy.

"You got a _fan,_ beautiful!"

Ivy faltered for a moment, all of her gusto from her utter domination of Jason gone in a heartbeat when faced with the bright-eyed lad. She paused and waved the tips of her fingers as the boy drew closer with Harley's prompting.

"Hi, Miss Ivy," the boy said, more and more awestruck the closer he got to her. Harley reached over to guide him closer to Ivy — and to guide Ivy into letting him _get_ closer — all while the boy continued. "You're so _smart_ and pretty and just so .. you're just so _awesome_ _andyouweremyfavoritefromtheverybeginningandnotjustbecauseyouwerefromhere_." He drew in a great breath of air while both Harley and Ivy shared a look — and a moment later, Ivy had taken his hand.

"What was your favorite part of the games, little sprout?" Ivy asked — and just by the way she'd framed her question, the boy grinned wider, even surpassing Wade in his enthusiasm.

As soon as Harley was sure Ivy was engaged with him, she turned her attention to _other_ little ones jockeying for time with the prettiest duo in the Games. They quietly gave a little time to everyone they could. Harley played the part of buffer to keep the kids — and adults — from swarming Ivy too much at once as she let the young man tell her all he could about his thoughts and hopes and dreams — and of course how much he was enamored with her. But when the crowd started to relax and settle a bit, Harley was somewhat surprised when she realized that Moss had come to sit close to Ivy at some point in the meet-and-greet.

Harley frowned when she saw that the two of them were silently leaning into each other, and she did her best to give them a little bit of privacy, instead playing with a few of the smaller kids to gently redirect them while Moss and Ivy began to chat.

This was the kind of thing that Harley hated the most — when she had so many people around her but still felt like she was alone. And to top it off, her two favorite people were both occupied — not that she could fault either of them. Ivy was with her dad, after all — and it was pretty clear the guy needed to see her. And Wade was smoothin' things over with the people in charge. She looked over to where he was talking and smirked to herself as she heard him ask for an autograph as Okoye told him to get moving.

"Good news, girls! Our friends here in Eleven have agreed to let us fuel up. Then we're gonna just … ske-daddle on outta here," Wade said, clapping his hands together when he got up to them.

"Where we goin', sunshine?" Harley asked, smiling his way. He _always_ smiled back at her — but not like Jack did, no. Wade's smile had actual _warmth,_ and his smile went all the way to his eyes — even if it was just a little one! He seemed to _exude_ joy. _Oh, man, do I love it when he smiles,_ Harley thought to herself as Wade gave her his full attention — something else she just wasn't used to.

"Well, that's a fine question, cupcake, and … okay. So … I have a place in mind. It's gonna take a little while to get there, _but_ …" He held up both hands in front of himself and panned them slowly apart. "Picture this: no seasons, only summer. Warm weather and warm water all the time … and tropical flowers and jungles at your disposal twenty-four-seven.… No SHIELD. No Hydra … just us, the sun, the sand, and the sea. Whaddayathink?"

Harley squealed. "I love it!"

"But not _just_ us," Ivy said as she turned to her father without further explanation.

"Yes! Of course! That's so much better than just an autograph," Wade declared — then drew one katana quickly with a grin. "But look! I got Okoye to sign Bea!"

Harley popped up on her toes to see the little inscription on the blade, then went to kiss his cheek — though he turned his head and stole a real kiss instead, earning a giggle of pure delight from her. "That is so cool, handsome."

"It really is," Wade said, and just like that, the two of them were getting wrapped up, rubbing noses and stealing kisses … until Ivy cleared her throat.

"So, when do we leave?"

Harley and Wade broke apart — sort of. The kissing stopped, but he didn't loosen his grip on her — which Harley grinned wider over — and she kept her arms around the back of his neck. "Right now if you want, Dandelioness," Wade promised before he stole another kiss and stepped back, bowing deeply as he gestured for Ivy and Moss to lead the way.

Once they'd passed him by, he stayed in the low bow only to look up at Harley. "You too, gorgeous."

"You tryin'ta get a look at my caboose?" Harley giggled, one hand on her hip.

"You know it," Wade said, and Harley smiled wider, then turned a little pirouette on the tips of her toes before putting on an exaggerated strut that had Wade groaning.

The group was loaded up in the plane — with Wade at the controls as always — but she stepped out of the copilot seat to let him focus on getting in the air safely.

Harley couldn't help but watch Ivy and her father as she sat just behind Wade while he piloted them away from Eleven, and with a little refuel and supply load up- away from Marvel proper. Her feet were flat on the floor, toes pointed inward as she almost vacantly watched the interaction between father and daughter. There was nothing but tenderness and care from one to the other, and it was clear to Harley in that moment that Moss had to be where Ivy had learned to be so gentle and kind …

It was a beautiful moment full of all the tenderness and care that she was used to seeing from Ivy, but it was going both ways. The pure affection and respect that Moss was giving his daughter had Harley staring at the two of them openly, her breath caught in her chest as she watched them and her eyes welled up with tears.

* * *

" _Mom, lookit my picture! Didja see it, Mom, huh? Didja? Lookit! I made it myself!" Harleen was holding up a lovely crayon masterpiece that depicted their little family: her parents, Sharon and Nick, along with a tiny pig-tailed stick figure in front of a little white house with blue details. The sun was a big yellow ball, and there were two trees flanking the house. A simple drawing, but one that the little girl had put some real care into._

" _Not now, Harleen," her mother replied shortly. "I'm busy. I have a meeting to prepare for. I don't have time for this right now."_

 _Harleen's shoulders dropped, and her mouth turned down in a pout. Her mother stopped almost at the front door, swearing under her breath, and Harleen's heart rose for an instant_ — _sure that she was turning to look at the picture. It'd only take a second, after all._

 _But Sharon Quinn slipped by and didn't even slow down enough to pat her six year old daughter on the head as, instead, she picked up her keys to work. "I almost forgot my keys; that would have set me back," Sharon said, and Harley's spirits fell even further than they had before._

 _Sharon didn't even say goodbye before she left, leaving Harley alone in the kitchen with her drawing dragging on the floor._

 _For a few minutes, Harleen simply stood there, staring at the closed kitchen door as the clock on the wall tick-tocked down the seconds, with no other sound or anything else to distract her from the fact that she was alone._

* * *

"Harley," Ivy said, breaking her out of her daydream. "Are you alright?"

"Me?" Harley said, quickly moving to wipe away the would-be tears before they could fall. "I'm fine, Red." She grinned up at her brilliantly. "Why do you ask?"

"You looked a little distant," Ivy said, tipping her head to the side. "Are you sure—"

Harley laughed, cutting her off and waving one hand. "I'm just a little tired, that's all! It's been a long couple'a days, and we still gotta find Wade's little hideaway. No biggie." She got to her feet and made sure to keep her pert and perky outer facade intact. "You just keep doin' what you was doin'. I know you got a lot of catchin' up to do. I'll just try an' see how long it'll be before we land, 'kay?"

She didn't wait for a response before she turned on one foot and bounced into the cockpit. "Hiya, handsome! What's a guy like you doin' in a plane like this?"

"Just looking for heaven on earth for a couple of angels," Wade shot back, not missing a beat. That was _another_ thing Harley loved about him. His comebacks and jokes were _never_ at her expense. His sometimes, sure … but never hers.

"You, sir, are workin' yer way up to bein' my favorite all-time tribute."

"Yeah, well … Petey's been a little distant. I think he's gettin' all wrapped up in that Gwen Stacey girl again."

"Oh, _yeah_ ," Harley said, crossing her legs and blowing a strand of hair out of her face. "You wouldn't believe those two. Kinda sweet, to be honest, but did they ever move _slow._ "

"Are they particularly repressed in Eight? Because I kind of got that sense …"

"Mmmm…. Depends on who ya ask, really," Harley replied, then kissed his cheek.

"Well .. I'm asking _you_ , sweetness."

"I dunno. We're not as hung up on _warriors_ like 'leven an' Four," she said. "But we got our own kinda prudes, I guess." Harley drew her shoulders up to her ears and let out a wistful sigh.

"No offense, but you got a few total nutbags, too," Wade said.

"You mean Mistah J?"

"Well, him too," Wade said. "But I was talking more about helmet-head-Osborn. That guy …"

"Yeah, he was a real piece'a work," Harley agreed. "I was pretty disappointed that Spidah-woman didn't wanna play with me. I always liked her."

"Yeah? Crazy Jess Drew? I heard through an unnamed SHIELD source that one of the archers captured her, and Director Stabby refused to let her be imprisoned," Wade said. "I guess he agreed with the archer and is pushing to get her rehabilitated."

Harley turned his way. "Is your source his cute lil' so-called bodyguard?"

Wade tipped his chin up and tried to remain quiet for a long moment, but ultimately… "It is."

"Oh good, I like her," Harley decided, settling into her seat. "You know … I remember when Spidah-gal won — and she wasn't nothin' like she was in the Capitol."

"Yeah? What was she like, sugar lips?" Wade asked in a tone that conveyed how honestly interested he was.

"Well … I was little. An' I was just old enough to start payin attention to the Games, ya know? An … from what I remember? She was real scared on her tour. Real wide-eyed, quiet … cause she _was_ the youngest victor ever." Harley grinned. "And a _girl_."

"Right, right — you're actually old enough to remember one of your victors winning… Or they're young enough … whatever. You know what I mean."

"She was a real nice girl," Harley said seriously. "I sure hope they can help her. I really wanted to be like her when I was little."

"Well, princess," Wade said, "you just settle in and relax. Your pilot is dedicated to your comfort level, and I promise … _I promise_ that once we stop off in Three and make a full supply pick-up, I'm going to take you to paradise."

Harley smiled over at him. "Seems like I've heard that before."

"And …"

"And ya haven't lied to me yet, handsome."


	67. Chapter 67: Queen's Consort

**A/N - Hello, and welcome back! You're just in time for our Friday update! First of all, thanks again, as always to TheRaspberryVigilante41 and our _amazing_ writers who took the time to review our last few chapters! I know things are getting busy for everyone as the weather warms up and all of us little geeks come out of hibernation, but that only makes the reviews you leave that much more precious to all of us, so from all of us to all of you - thank you again! **

**TRV41- I agree, the different perspectives the girls had growing up are pretty wildly different, but it's alright now! (and it's one of the worst kept secrets of Marvel that Wade is the BEST bestie for anyone. Ever. Bar none.)**

 **With that, let's have the highly talented BsntStrng13 help us take a peek back into what going on with our friends in the Drama Triangle are up to!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty Seven - Queen's Consort**

 **John Constantine, Formerly of District Twelve**

 **District Four**

 **Written by BstnStrng13**

* * *

" _To love and to win is the best thing. To love and lose, the next best." — William M. Thackeray_

* * *

John didn't have a lot of experience with happiness, at least not pure happiness. Growing up in Twelve, he'd found pleasure in scattered moments. He'd hung out and joked with his pals after a day in the mines or he'd snuck away from the house with his sister to talk at night under the stars. They were fleeting pockets of joy, those moments, always tainted by the specter of the Capitol or, worse, by his father's hatred. Like a bandage for a wound that never healed, they staunched the bleeding, but the pain and ragged flesh remained underneath.

So he didn't know quite what to make of his happiness now, this happiness that came from knowing Diana returned his feelings and was going to be his partner forever. In many ways, it was the opposite of what he had known before. It felt permament, almost impermeable. Regardless of the storms that raged, John knew it would bring warmth and color to everything else in his life.

He was aware that Di's decision to be with him was not universally welcomed or even understood. Four had embraced him as a warrior and accepted him as a citizen, but uniting with their future queen in marriage was another matter entirely. No matter how many battles he fought, the blood that ran through John's veins was common, and Four's gods were not his. He received puzzled looks from many and, in some cases, polite coolness. Invitations that used to arrive frequently, particularly from prominent families, stopped coming.

He suspected Di was receiving much worse than polite coolness. She hadn't shared every detail of her mother's reaction upon learning she'd broken her engagement to Kaldur, but he'd felt enough of the aftermath when he'd met her family to know that it had been a difficult conversation. Duty was at the top of the Prince family priorities, and Di's action could be interpreted as a dereliction of her duty to unite Four.

And the blame for that dereliction, in the eyes of many, fell squarely on John's shoulders. He was well-aware of that, and yet still… he was happy. She was his, and he was hers — for the rest of their lives. It all came down to that one, glorious miracle.

It helped, of course, that the person who had more right than anyone to be angry — wasn't. Kaldur had accepted Di's decision calmly. When John finally got the chance to speak with him alone, he thought the diver might even be relieved.

* * *

" _So, now I am the one seeking you out," John said to Kaldur, "with bad news. I'll say the same thing to you that you said to me. I hope this won't damage our friendship. It means a great deal to me."_

 _Kaldur gazed at John for several, long seconds before giving him a small smile. "The news is not so bad in this case, I think. This marriage was not right for us. We both know that I do not feel for Diana what you do."_

" _No. But you worry about what this means for Four."_

" _Aye, I do. I'll not lie about that, John." Kaldur shook his head slowly. "I worry for Atlantis, and I worry for Diana. I worry for you." He paused a long moment. "I have to believe that Four will unite behind you both. They know you care for our people. I hope they will follow you, but if the price of our hearts' freedom is the fracturing of Four, we must face that as well."_

 _John almost laughed. Kaldur's honesty was so very... Four. "If it helps," he offered, "I've never let my love for Di stop me from telling her what I think. If I believe she's doing something foolish, I'll tell her so." He paused. "Of course, I may not exactly use those words..."_

 _Now, Kaldur did laugh. "No. I would recommend you choose your words more carefully. She wields a sword as well as anyone I have seen."_

 _For a moment, they shared a grin._

 _Then, John reached out and rested his hand briefly on Kaldur's shoulder. "I'll take care of Four, Kaldur. I promise."_

" _I know you will," Kaldur said, resting his own hand on John's forearm. "I do not fear your heart, John. I only wish for your sake that others see you as I do." He smiled. "In any case, I will defend you as eloquently as I can. I'll use my words to praise you, since you seem to think they are my sharpest weapons."_

 _John smiled. "That means a lot, really."_

" _Then let me say what you said to me: I wish you happiness, John." Kaldur smiled. "You deserve it."_

* * *

John stared at the suit that lay on the bed in his cottage. There was a note pinned to the jacket.

 _Jubilee and I designed this for you to wear at Diana's coronation. Please try it on and let me know ASAP if it needs alterations. We both agree that you need to make some kind of statement, and we think this will help. I'm sure you know the two of us wish you nothing but the best._

 _\- Noh Varr -_

A _statement_?

John picked up the suit and held it in front of him, trying to figure out the statement that it made. It was a collarless jacket with slacks, made of a heavy fabric in interwoven shades of blue. The cut, John realized, was reminiscent of the training suits they wore in the Games, only more formal. And the colors were a subtle match to the royal blue gown Di was planning to wear at her coronation.

He decided the statement was: _I'm Diana's true partner, and I've had her back ever since the Games._

"Pretty damn clever," he murmured.

After much debate, he and Di had agreed that he would be up on the dais for her coronation, although he still wasn't convinced it was a smart idea. It was her moment, not his, and he didn't want the respect she was due to be diminished by disapproval of him as her future husband. He had resisted the idea of being up there until Di's sister, Donna, had proposed a compromise.

"You should stand with the family," she'd suggested to John, "and not at Diana's side, as if you were already her consort. It will show the district that the Prince family supports your union without throwing it in their face by having you stand as a couple."

John and Di had looked at one another. "Your sister is pretty astute for someone so young," he'd finally said.

And Di had smiled fondly at Donna. "She has her moments."

John wriggled out of his clothes and slipped on the suit. It was a tailored fit, thankfully not as snug as the training uniforms. John checked the length of the pants and the sleeves before studying himself in the mirror. It wasn't bad, he thought. The suit had clean, dignified lines and none of the silly flash favored by the Capitolites. At least the citizens of Four wouldn't find fault with his clothes.

"John?"

Thor's voice boomed from the entryway to the cottage. John jumped a little, then hastily swung the bedroom door shut before the Asgardian could come back and find him preening in front of the mirror. He had a feeling he'd never hear the end of that one.

"Just getting dressed," he called through the door.

"Well, do it quickly," Thor called back. "I have something to share with you, and it cannot wait."

John rolled his eyes. _Thor_ , he thought. _His enthusiasm is too big for this cottage_. He hastened to get back into his regular clothes and strode out of the bedroom.

"What's the bloody emergency—" he began. And then stopped.

Cheryl was standing next to Thor with a smile on her face.

His sister was here. In Four. In his home.

"John." Her voice was warm and full of love.

"Aww, Sis." He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug. Tears stung his eyes, and for a moment, neither of them had a voice. He was dimly aware of Thor grinning broadly behind Cheryl.

"How did you get here?" he finally asked her.

"Logan sent a transport for me so that I could see Diana's coronation. I have a feeling your friend—" She glanced over her shoulder at Thor. "—may have planted a word in the director's ear."

"Me?" Thor pointed at his chest. "Not at all. I make it a point never to interfere in John's life."

John released Cheryl and laughed. " _Never_ meaning no more than once a day," he explained to her. Then, he added, "Remind me to send my thanks to Logan. With all the man has to do, he never forgets the former tributes."

She nodded and then tugged on John's arm. "Can we take a walk? I'd love to have you show me around your new home."

 _And have a talk_ , he thought. She had something she wanted to say. He could hear it in her voice.

"Sure," he agreed and pointed toward the doorway. "Let's go."

As they passed Thor, the Asgardian placed his hand on John's shoulder to hold him back. Bending down to John's ear, he said quietly, "You never told me how pretty your sister is. Is she seeing anyone in Twelve? I believe she will need a companion for the coronation."

John frowned. "This is my _sister_ , we're talking about, Thor. Please don't go there."

Thor shrugged. "You've been staring at _my_ sister with starry eyes for months now. And I believe I caught the two of you kissing the other day."

"That's—" John began and then stopped. He'd been about to say _that's different_ , when he realized that it wasn't. So instead, he resorted to, "I didn't know Di was your sister when I fell in love with her."

Thor shook his head. "That is a weak argument, John."

John sighed. "I know." And he pushed past Thor to join his sister outside.

She took his arm and they began to walk the streets of Asgard. For fifteen minutes, she said little, just looked and nodded as John pointed out various aspects of the village. When they got to Yggdrasil (which John was at last able to pronounce), she tugged on his arm to get him stop.

He turned toward her and watched several emotions flit across her face; happiness, concern, reluctance. He waited.

Finally, she simply said, "Are you sure, John?"

He didn't pretend to misunderstand. He picked up her hand and squeezed it gently. "Yes, Cheryl, I'm sure."

She shook her head. "You're eighteen. That's awfully young to be taking all this on — getting married, and to a queen, no less. You've been through a lot. Becoming a tribute. Being—" She paused.

"Being killed?"

"Yes. Being killed. That has to change the way you look at things. Maybe you feel that you shouldn't wait for anything now… that you should move ahead quickly with life because you lost it once and could lose it again."

He shrugged. "Maybe. But that's not the only reason why I want to marry Di."

"No?"

He searched for words and settled on, "Throughout everything that has happened to me since I was reaped, there has been one constant — one good thing. It was there before I died, after I was brought back, and in the war against Hydra. And that's the way I feel about Di. She's my light."

Cheryl frowned. "Yes. But how about her feelings? I don't believe _she's_ been as constant. She agreed to marry someone else, not long ago."

 _And there it is_ , he thought. _That's what's really bothering her._

"That was a political decision," he explained. "It wasn't about love. She was getting pressure from the Sea King to marry an Atlantean to bring Four together. She and Kaldur both knew that they didn't love each other — not _that_ way. They agreed to the marriage out of duty. In the end, she couldn't go through with it."

His response didn't reassure her; he could see that. Cheryl glanced up into the branches of the tree as if hoping to find answers, then turned her gaze back to him. "John," she said carefully, "forgive me, but you haven't had a lot of experience with love, especially receiving it. Dad certainly never showed you any. Diana has a lot on her plate. She may have feelings for you — you would certainly know that better than I — but she strikes me as the kind of girl who is practical and who will always put duty first. Who's to say some other political matter doesn't come along in a few weeks that causes her to change her mind again?"

John rested one hand on the trunk of Yddrasil, hoping to draw strength from its age and power. He loved his sister, but he wasn't going to allow her to make him doubt Di. "Do you think changing her mind and telling her mother and Arthur Curry that she wants to marry me was the _practical_ thing to do? Do you think it was easy for her?" He shook his head. "She's risking the fate of her country and her position as queen. _Practical_ is the last thing she's being." He ran his hand over the rough bark of the tree. "She's finally listening to her heart, Cheryl."

His sister pursed her lips and said nothing.

"Look, she found her feelings later than I did," he admitted. "She saw me as a friend for a long time before she realized that she loved me. But now that she knows it, her feelings aren't going to change." He let out a small laugh. "Di knows her own mind — believe me, I've learned that well. I have no doubts about her, and neither should you."

She looked into his eyes for a long moment and then nodded. "Very well, John. Then I'm happy for you — for _both_ of you." She took his hand, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. Then, she smiled. "Now, be a good brother and show me the ocean."

* * *

Diana's coronation day dawned with clear blue skies and a gentle breeze. As he waited for the ceremony, time somehow managed to move both swiftly and slowly for John. He dressed and felt as though he sat forever in his cottage with Cheryl, drinking tea and talking about everything except the coronation. Then, suddenly, he was walking through the crowd to climb the steps of the dais and stand with Di's family.

They'd decided to hold the coronation in the field where the Amazons had battled Hydra. Set on a hill, the field overlooked the beach — the home of the Atlanteans — as well as the village of Asgard. The battleground itself was a reminder of how the Amazons had been the first to defend Four and how the peoples of Four had come together to defeat evil. It was a place of unity.

There was no precedent for having a single ruler — and therefore no existing ceremony that sufficed. Arthur Curry, Hippolyta, and Thor (representing Odin) stood together to present Diana with a symbolic crown. Standing next to Donna, John watched with pride as Diana recited words she had written herself. She spoke of honor, courage, and unity and pledged to both rule and serve her people. Anyone who had doubted her fitness to be queen, he thought, could doubt no longer. She sounded wise, regal and humble. At one point, he felt his chest expand and he looked down to see Donna grinning at him.

The rest of the coronation passed in a blur. As they walked off the dais, he was vaguely aware of several people shaking his hand. He didn't get the chance to say anything to Di. She was absorbed into the crowd of well-wishers and began her rule by listening to each and every one of them.

* * *

She came to him on the beach as the sun was beginning to set. John was sitting in his favorite spot on the rocks, feeling the breeze brush his cheeks and watching the waves roll in. The ocean was relatively calm for once, the waves small and regular, scarcely foaming as they reached the shore.

She had changed out of her ceremonial gown and was wearing a light, gauzy dress that ended just below the knee and left her arms bare. It fluttered in the light wind, clinging to her body for a second before breaking free to float around her legs. She was barefoot, and John stared at her toes, entranced. In this moment, she seemed surprisingly girlish, not at all the dignified woman who had been crowned before her people hours ago.

Still, he knew better than to say so.

He bowed his head but didn't stand. "My queen."

She arched one eyebrow. "My…" she paused, then grinned as she sat beside him. "My _subject_ ," she replied. She turned to stare at the ocean before adding, "Does this elevation in my status mean that you will at last obey my orders without question?"

He shook his head. "Not a chance."

"Ah. I thought not." The smile remained on her face.

He studied her profile, the straight nose and the determined chin. _So young, and so much_ _responsibility_. "That is," he amended more soberly, "I may sometimes question you in private. In public, I will back you to the hilt. You'll always have my support, Di."

She nodded. "I thought that, too."

It was his turn to grin. "That sure of me, are you?"

She turned to face him. Her blue eyes, with their long, dark lashes, looked into his. "Yes," she said simply. "I am. I believe I have been sure of you for some time, John, although I may not have been prepared to admit it."

The blood flowing through John's veins suddenly felt warmer. She could do that to him so easily, with a few words or a look. He reached out and took her hand, entwining their fingers. The gift of being able to hold it was still new, and it amazed him that a hand so deft with a sword could feel so gentle in his.

"It was a nice ceremony today," he offered. "The people of Four are happy to welcome a new queen and a new era. And nobody shot me with an arrow, which was also good. I wasn't too sure about being up there with you, given the way some people feel about our engagement."

This time, she didn't smile. She returned her gaze to the ocean but kept her hand in his. "About our engagement," she began and then sighed. "I fear it may be a long one."

He frowned, although he wasn't entirely surprised. "You think your people need time to accept it," he said flatly.

" _Our_ people," she corrected. "And yes, I think it will be better received with time." When he said nothing, she squeezed his hand and continued, "Four saw your worth as a fighter, John, and they have valued your counsel as we have begun to unite. We are a people of strong traditions, and to marry outside of the district is difficult for some to understand, but deeds win out in the end. Four will come to value you as my consort and adviser. I have no doubts on that score."

"And if they don't?"

"Then we will marry anyway. There will always be a few who disapprove. My betrothal to Kaldur was not universally accepted."

He wondered how much time she would want to give the people to come around but decided not to press. For the moment, it was enough that she was his. He lifted their joined hands and kissed the back of hers. "My sister will be happy if we delay. She thinks we're too young to marry."

"But you do not."

He shook his head. "No. I think we have been tested as few couples are tested. In the Games, in the war against Hydra — we've seen each other at our best and our worst. In our hearts, we believe in the same things, and when we've disagreed, we've worked things out. I think we're ready. I know _I_ am. I love you with everything that's in me, Di. I can't imagine ever feeling this way about anyone else."

She gently disengaged her hand from his, then leaned toward him and captured his face in both hands. "You had better not. Remember, John, I can still best you in combat." And before he could laugh, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.

Kissing Di was an even newer experience than hand-holding, and it overwhelmed John's senses. Her dark hair smelled wonderful — of saltwater and flowers — and her lips were soft and full. His heart was pounding as the kiss deepened, and his limbs began to tingle. He felt strong and weak at the same time.

When they broke apart, he was breathless. "Bloody hell, Di. If you do _that_ anytime we disagree, then you'll win the argument for sure. My brain stops working."

She was breathless herself. "Then I must remember to add kissing to my arsenal. Frequently."

"Ah. So you'll fight dirty. What happened to honor?"

She pursed her lips. "I believe there are times when honor is overrated." She hesitated, then added, "As are some traditions." And to his surprise, she blushed.

It was rare for her to do that. He frowned. "I think I'm missing something here, Di."

She dropped her gaze to her lap, and her blush turned deeper. "I think that if our engagement is to be a lengthy one, then it may not be necessary to… wait… until the wedding to…" Her voice dropped off.

And suddenly, John understood. "Oh," was all he could say. "Oh," he repeated. He felt his own cheeks grow warm.

"Unless you don't want…"

He laughed. "Of course I want — It's just that I'm still getting used to the fact that I can do this at all." He leaned forward and gave her a soft, lingering kiss. "I'm pretty sure I first thought about it during the Games, the night I treated your shoulder wound. I'm also pretty sure you'd have knocked me unconscious if I'd tried."

She shrugged with mock seriousness. "Off your feet, more likely, but not unconscious. You had a job to do. It was your turn to take watch, as I recall."

"You _would_ remember that."

"Oh, aye. I may not have been as besotted as you at the time, but I still find I have a very good memory for things you said and did. And I plan to use them whenever it suits my purposes."

He felt the happiness bubble up through him, the way it did so frequently these days. "I can't believe the path my life has taken. Would you ever have imagined the day you asked me to join your alliance that this is where we would end up?"

"No."

He laughed again. _That's my Di_ , he thought. _Always honest_.

There were so many things he could say, but he decided he would save them for later. He leaned forward and kissed her again.


	68. Chapter 68: Say Yes

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're taking you out of politics for a while to check in with our twitterpated Titans ;)**

 **Thank you to our writers who reviewed for showing your love to your fellow contributors, and thank you to TRV for being our rock star. We love your commentary on our commentary ;)**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Eight - Say Yes**

 **Kory Anders, Formerly of District Twelve**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by Unlucky Alis**

* * *

" _When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."_ \- Nora Ephron

* * *

Kory lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling. Her hands were folded over her stomach, and her hair fanned out around her head. She had been lying like that for a good ten minutes, just thinking.

The war was finally done — or it would be soon. There was still some fighting going on, but without its heads, Hydra was flailing about in its death throes. It was only a matter of time until it would be squashed entirely.

Kory felt immense relief at that. While there was a part of her that enjoyed fighting, maybe even appreciated it in some ways, _war_ was not something she would like to be involved with again. At times, it had felt like she was still in the Games. Whether she was fighting for her life inside the arena or outside of it, was there really a difference? It was a furious struggle either way, filling her with fear. For teammates. Of her enemies. Of herself.

The sooner it was over, the better — and she was sure there were plenty of other people who felt the same way.

But with that thought came a persistent and nagging question that wouldn't leave Kory be: _what now?_

She had given the future _some_ thought before, but those had been vague, rest-of-her-life ideas. What about the rest of this week? Or the month? What was she going to do? One thing at the forefront of her mind was family. Her last meeting with her parents had been less than ideal.

Mya accepted her decision not to stay, but Kory realized now that she hadn't been fair. She didn't regret her choice to leave, but she did regret how she acted — with her parents at least. They didn't have a chance to talk about things. Maybe Kory could have explained herself better if she stuck around for at least a few more minutes. She would like the chance to talk with them more; she did say she was going to visit.

When it came to Komander… Kory was done with her. Komander had always been a big influence on Kory's early life, and nothing would change that. But Kory knew now that there were things so much bigger than Komander's jealousy and petty feud. She had said her final piece, had her satisfying vengeance. If there was anything still open between them, it would be up to Komander to reach out, to try and fix their broken relationship. Kory refused to put any more effort into someone who did not want her sisterhood, and if Komander never bothered to reach out, she would be okay with that.

Kory rolled onto her side, pulling her hair over her shoulder and running her fingers through the long strands. She glanced at her clock. It was just past noon. Dick was meeting with Xavier this morning and would probably be done soon.

A smile flitted across her lips, and she felt her cheeks heating up. With the war ending, everything felt more real. It was real before, but without the risk of death hanging over their heads, there was a chance for more. And now that the fighting was almost over, what would Dick want to do?

He would probably want to stay in Seven, with Helena and Bruce and Alfred.

Kory would not hesitate to follow.

It was funny. She was used to men trailing after her like lost puppies, wide-eyed and weak to any gentle touch she was willing to give them — and she enjoyed the attention. But she always wondered what kind of person would be willing to just follow someone around like that. She thought they were foolish and always told herself she would never become that kind of person.

Kory knew better now. That hadn't been following — that was chasing, pursuing. Stalking. To really follow someone was different. Dick could set out for the ends of Earth, and Kory would follow. She could head for the stars, and Dick would be right there with her, if she asked.

But that would mean leaving behind the things they — the _people_ _he_ — loved. She could never ask him to do that. Dick had a great family in Seven, one she would love to be a part of.

Kory paused, her hands stilling in her hair. Did she really mean that? Whenever she thought about being with Dick, forever always came to mind, but somehow, she had never actually considered what that meant.

Forever, with Dick, as a family. Kory Grayson.

Kory's blush swept across her cheeks and made her ears burn. She rolled onto her stomach and pressed her face into her comforter. It took a solid five minutes for her blush to fade. When it did, she lifted her head just enough so she could glance at the clock again. Almost twelve-thirty.

She and Dick had plans to meet up later. During one of Dick's sessions, Xavier recommended that Dick set aside some time just for himself, at least once a week. Not that Kory and Dick spent every minute together, but sometimes, Kory knew, it was nice to know that you have time just to yourself. They, along with Dick's family, had agreed that up to two hours after Dick's sessions would be set aside just for him.

Kory didn't want to impede on that time, but she also needed to talk to him. Sooner rather than later. She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, coming to a decision. She would see how he was doing after his session. If he looked too worn out, she wouldn't bother him. If he was in a good mood, she would at least tell him there was something important she wanted to talk about after his alone time.

It took Kory a few minutes to reach Xavier's office, but she was still early when she arrived. At the corner of the hallway, she hovered, within sight of Xavier's door but far enough that she could scamper away before Dick saw her, if he looked like he really needed some alone time.

She leaned against the wall and picked at her nail polish on her left hand. Noh-Varr had lent her some colors, bright green and true blue, matching her and Dick's eyes. Green on her left, blue on her right. The green nail polish was already chipping before Kory started to pick at it, but she was being careful to keep her blue nails pristine. It was her favourite color, although purple was a close second.

Frowning when she saw some blue nail polish lifting of her thumb, Kory was so busy trying to smooth it out that she missed when the door to Xavier's office opened.

"Just think about what I said."

Kory's started at Xavier's voice and snapped her gaze to his door. He and Dick were hovering at the threshold. Dick was blushing and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Yeah, I will. Thanks," Dick said.

Xavier nodded and closed the door, leaving Kory and Dick alone in the hallway.

Dick hadn't seen her yet. The redness was fading from his cheeks, and he dropped his hand to his side. His fingers ghosted over his pocket, and it looked to Kory like he was pinching something, but from this distance, she couldn't see if there was actually anything there. A determined frown settled on Dick's face, and Kory started to leave.

She knew that expression. It was one he wore when he was doing a lot of serious thinking. Not bad thinking — but serious. She didn't want to disturb him, not if it was as important as it looked like it was.

Pressing down on her thumbnail to keep the polish flat — she'd have to ask Noh-Varr to borrow the color again next time he was in Seven or she was in Four — Kory made it a grand total of three steps before Dick was calling out to her.

"Oh! Kory!"

She stopped and glanced over her shoulder, licking her lip out of pure habit. Dick's falter when he saw the action made her grin.

"I was just going to come find you," he said as he neared her. He stuck his hand in his pocket, the same one he was reaching for before.

Kory only spared it a brief glance before looking back up to his face. "No contemplation time today?"

Dick grinned and shook his head. "Not today. I don't need to do any thinking today."

"Is that so?" Kory asked. She leaned forward, tracing the inside of Dick's arm with her fingers. Sure, she had something important she wanted to talk about, but there was no harm in a little teasing first.

"Y-yeah," Dick said. He grabbed Kory's hand, surprising her when he didn't say anything teasing back. "I wanted to talk to you."

"What a coincidence." Kory intertwined her fingers with Dick's. "Want to take a walk outside?"

Dick nodded. He was still grinning, but there was something about it Kory couldn't quite place. It was similar to the smiles they exchanged when they first met, a little nervous, a lot adorable, but with that determined glint Kory had seen in his frown before.

They didn't speak much as they made their way outside. A few idle comments about Dick's session — it went well, better than normal — but nothing in-depth. Kory didn't pry. If Dick wanted to talk about it, then he would, but he did seem to be in a genuinely good mood.

Once they were outside, they walked to the nearest open patch of grass and sat down side-by-side, shoulders and legs pressed together.

"So we were—" Dick started saying, the same moment Kory said, "I wanted to—"

They stopped, each waiting for the other to continue. Dick nodded.

"I also wished to speak with you, but you may go first," Kory said.

"Oh. Okay, maybe… Yeah, maybe I should?" Dick took his hand out of his pocket, holding it in a fist as he rested it in his lap. "Xavier and I were talking about the Demon's Head raid today, when we went after Talia."

Kory stiffened and hugged her arms, nearly flinching when she touched the healing abrasions on her right arm. They had healed nicely, but they were still a bright, angry red — and sensitive to every touch. The last of her bruises had faded over a week ago, and she was cleared of her concussion too. All her other aches and pains had faded, but not the abrasions. Kory was told they would scar.

"When I heard Raven scream, and I saw you falling down those stairs…. You didn't move after you hit the bottom. For a moment, I really thought you were dead," Dick said. "It was… I can't even describe how scared I was. I thought you were dead."

Tears burned in Kory's eyes. She didn't need him to explain. She remembered how it felt when Dick died, and she would probably never forget. It was the worst pain she had ever experienced. It felt like someone had ripped her heart out and put hot coals were it was supposed to be. She never wanted to feel that way again, never wanted _Dick_ to feel like that.

But he had. If only for a moment, he had felt that pain because of something Kory had recklessly done.

"I wasn't an idiot," Dick continued. "I knew there was a chance one of us could die, for good this time, but I hadn't really thought it would _really_ happen until then. I didn't think I could actually lose you. It still scares me."

"But the war is over," Kory said. She wasn't sure how to comfort him. She and Helena had used their rage to hold each other up, and Kory had been so caught up in having Dick _back_ when he returned that she didn't think too much on the possibility of losing him again. She didn't want to waste time thinking such things.

"Yeah, it is." Dick nodded. He turned toward her, stretching one leg beneath her own and placing his open hand on her knee. "But I could still lose you, you know? It's not like war is the only thing that kills people or tears them apart. I _could_ lose you, and I don't want to, never again. You already lost me once. We won't have another chance like this.

Kory turned so she was facing him properly, tucking her legs underneath her so she could scoot closer. She reached out for his fisted hand. He didn't open it, but she held on anyways.

"I want to be with you for the rest of my life," Dick continued. He glanced away, his cheeks turning red again. "I know we've said stuff like that before, but this time, I'm _saying it_ , you know?"

Kory did. She practically tacked Dick, wrapping her arms around his neck and forcing him onto his back. The grass pricked and stung against her healing arm, but she didn't care. She buried her face in Dick's shirt, their legs tangling together.

There was no kissing, just lots of chaste touching. Dick hugged her tightly, and her hands roamed from his neck to his shoulders to back up to his jaw. All she wanted in that moment was to be close to him. They stayed like that for a few minutes. Embracing, taking each other in, how familiar and right it felt to just hold each other. Until Kory remembered something.

"Aren't you supposed to have a ring?" she asked. She was lying on his chest, her arms folded between them, her head resting on Dick's shoulder.

"I have a ring!" Dick protested, although he didn't move. The hand against Kory's lower back shifted, and she realized it was still in a fist, like he was holding something. She looked up and saw his teasing smile. "Aren't you supposed to say yes _before_ you tackle me?"

Kory shimmied forward, making sure they were still pressed together so she could appreciate the way Dick swallowed nervously, and whispered in his ear, " _Yes_."

With her hands on either side of Dick's head, holding her up, she leaned down and brushed her lips against his. When Dick pulled her closer, she indulged him for a moment, allowing for a brief, closed-mouth kiss before pulling back.

"I'm afraid I must see this ring before anything unchaste occurs," Kory said. "It would be unbecoming of us to get involved without a proper engagement."

" _More_ involved, you mean."

Kory fought against her blush, although she didn't succeed, and they separated. They rose so they were sitting upright again but didn't bother standing.

Dick opened his hands, revealing the ring — or _rings_. One had a thin band, while the other was thicker. Both were worn, scratched in a few places, but freshly polished. He must have been holding them tightly, because there were imprints on his palms from the metal. Dick took the ring with the thinner band, held Kory's left hand, and carefully slid it onto her finger.

There were three stones set in the band, the middle one the largest, although none of them were very big. They sparkled in the sunlight.

"It's beautiful," Kory said, dragging her thumb across the stones. She had never worn rings back home, so it felt strange to her now, but she knew she would get used to it. She had no intentions of taking it off any time soon.

"It was my mother's. Her wedding ring, actually, but it works for this too." Dick held up the second ring. "This one was my dad's."

Kory took it from him, rolling it in her fingers. This one was just a single golden band. She still thought it was one of the loveliest rings she had ever seen. Reaching out, she grabbed Dick's left hand.

"Are guys supposed to wear engagement rings?" he asked, smiling, as Kory slipped his father's ring onto his finger.

"I do not see why they cannot," Kory said. "Besides—" She cupped his hand in both of hers. "—I would like for everyone to see that you are mine." She tilted her head up and kissed him again, lingering a little longer this time, until Dick broke away first.

"I almost forgot. What did you want to talk about?" he asked.

Kory laughed, covering her mouth with her hand to try and stifle the sound. Ignoring Dick's confused expression, as cute as it was, she twisted the ring on her finger as her laughter died out. "I was thinking of proposing." She grinned. "But you seem to have beaten me to it."

Dick laughed. "I have to win at _something,_ don't I?"

"Oh, I suppose." Kory sighed, smiling a moment later when Dick pouted. "I think you should take my last name. Dick Anders sounds most wonderful, do you not agree?" She winked so he knew she was joking.

"Will you withhold marriage if I don't?" Dick asked.

Kory paused, tapping her chin and looking anywhere but at Dick. "Maybe."

"Then I think it's the best name I've ever heard," he said.

Kory rolled her eyes and grabbed Dick by the shoulders, pulling him down so they were lying shoulder to shoulder.

It was a beautiful day. The grass was soft, and the sunlight warmed her skin. She closed her eyes and tucked herself against Dick's side, pleased when he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. Taking his left hand in her own, she intertwined their fingers, the rings making a soft _clink_ when they touched.

It really was a beautiful day.


	69. Chapter 69: Through a Frosted Glass

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We're loving the positive reaction to all our story wrap-ups. So let's check in with Kaldur after all that drama earlier, huh?**

 **Thanks to our writers who reviewed not only this most recent chapter but earlier ones as well. We love marathon reviews and we really appreciate every one of our writers being recognized! Thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for being awesome, as usual!**

* * *

 **Chapter Sixty-Nine - Through a Frosted Glass**

 **Kaldur Ahm, Formerly of District Four**

 **District Seven**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."  
_ – Oscar Wilde

* * *

" _What were you thinking?"_

 _Arthur hadn't bothered to find privacy for this confrontation the way he had when he had pulled Diana and Kaldur aside to suggest the marriage in the first place. Instead, he had simply found Kaldur and let his famed temper loose, and Kaldur could only stand there, his face burning, knowing that he had crossed his king despite everything Arthur had given him, despite every oath he had made._

 _The king had every right to be angry with him._

" _You swore your allegiance to Atlantis!" Arthur shouted, pacing in front of Kaldur, his expression a rolling storm. "And now you come back to life some kind of Asgardian, changing allegiances and breaking promises on a whim!"_

" _Arthur," Mera said gently, but he shrugged away from her gentle touch._

" _I gave you everything_ — _my support, my love, my_ legacy. _And this is how you repay me?"_

 _Kaldur kept his head bowed, his gaze on the ground, though when Arthur paused, obviously waiting for a response, Kaldur finally lifted his gaze to stare into the furious eyes of his king. "I have never meant you any disrespect," he said softly._

" _No?" Arthur drew himself up taller. "You gave me your word. What happened?"_

 _Kaldur took a deep breath and held it, feeling very much like a ship anchored in the middle of a storm. He was steady but shaken, and there was every possibility that he would be lost._

" _You've disgraced yourself, Kaldur Ahm," Arthur said. "And you've betrayed your people and left them with no voice."_

" _I know I've lost my standing," Kaldur said calmly. "But Atlantis will not be voiceless. Even if I have no official title, even if I am stripped of my standing, your backing, and my people, I will hold Diana accountable. I will not let her forget our people. When she asked me to dissolve our agreement_ —"

" _You agreed with her at the cost of your people!" Arthur snapped._

" _I agreed with her because the marriage was wrong," Kaldur said. He didn't raise his voice, but he did hold Arthur's gaze, and he wasn't surprised to see that Arthur was taken aback by Kaldur's defiance, his mouth slightly parted before he narrowed his eyes again and took a step forward._

" _Then you should have spoken to me before we announced the marriage to our people. You should have_ —"

" _Arthur," Mera said, this time more sternly, refusing to let him shrug away from her as she took hold of his arm. "Listen to him. You've made your point eloquently. Let him explain himself before you destroy in your anger the man you called your heir not too long ago."_

 _Arthur met Mera's gaze, and the two of them held an entire conversation in the words they left unsaid before Arthur nodded and then turned toward Kaldur, his anger still apparent but his posture less aggressive. "Well?"_

 _Kaldur took a moment to compose his thoughts. He knew that he only had this one chance to explain himself before Arthur passed his judgement. "I was willing," he said slowly. "I was_ more _than willing to do what you asked. You're right. Our people need a voice. But, my king…" He shook his head. "...I do not love her."_

 _Arthur paused, and Kaldur could see him, for the first time, considering what he had to say. "Then what changed your mind?"_

" _John."_

" _The boy from Twelve?"_

" _My friend," Kaldur said. "He is a voice of reason and fairness. He may be an outsider, but that makes him perfectly suited to be an advisor. He sees the way we blind ourselves but has none of our bias_ — _or any bias at all_ — _in his heart. Despite being in love with Diana, he was willing to give us his support_ — so long as we were happy." _He paused to let it sink in. "I will do anything for Atlantis, my king. But I will not live a lie."_

 _Arthur didn't move, and neither did Kaldur_ — _so it was Mera who broke the silence between them by stepping forward to kiss Arthur gently. "You married for love, remember?" she told him with a quiet smile. "Can you really deny them that?"_

 _It was obvious Arthur had no good argument, and he let out a long breath before he pointed Kaldur's way. "If that Prince in any way devalues our people_ —"

" _Then I will be the first to stand against her," Kaldur swore._

" _Good." Arthur took a step back. "You have much to do to regain our trust, Kaldur. Do not think you will so easily gain the right to speak for our people. Atlantis will be watching you as closely as they watch Diana, and I will cede that seat only when I know I will not be giving it to a_ coward _."_

" _I know," Kaldur said, one hand on his heart before he dropped to one knee in a bow, showing his complete deference to Atlantis, trying to prove to his king that he still belonged to the sea. "And I will do everything in my power to redeem myself."_

* * *

Kaldur was well aware of the weight on his shoulders when he arrived in District Seven. He was away from home, representing his district as leaders from across Marvel gathered to discuss the future of the country as a whole, but his mind kept going back to that argument over and over again.

He knew that Diana had asked him to represent their district as a gesture to Atlantis to show that she would still be relying on him, that she would ask him to step up in leadership roles despite the dissolution of their marriage. And he appreciated the gesture.

But he felt more like an imposter than he had since he first discovered that he had been placed in a new body. He had broken his king's trust, and his people thought he had lain down in front of Diana to let her walk over him. He was lost in a way he hadn't felt in some time.

He hoped, of course, that the people would come to accept Diana and John as their rulers. John was well-liked, and most of the district knew he would be a loyal, loving husband to their new queen. The gossip would eventually fade, though it would never disappear, Kaldur knew. Words would fall to the wayside, and actions would replace them. They would see that Diana was capable of ruling. They would come to love John's wisdom as their king. And they would, perhaps, one day see that Kaldur would never abandon his people.

But for the moment, Kaldur found himself drifting. He had little support, aside from a few who agreed that John was the better match for Diana, and he had no war to regain his honor. The battles were drawing to an end. He would have no warrior's death and no great victory to win back the hearts of Atlantis. He would have to earn their trust slowly — or choose to fade into the background so that the broken trust didn't taint his district wholly. Better he lose his honor than lead the district into chaos.

He was one of the first representatives to arrive outside of those that were already in Seven, and he _tried_ to make himself comfortable. It was significantly colder this far north than it was in Four, and he was grateful for the kind attentions of the cook, who noticed how cold he looked and got him something warm to drink.

He was still nursing his drink when someone else came downstairs, laughing and almost skipping the last step. "That smells _amazing_ , Mrs. O'Malley. Any chance you made enough for me?"

Kaldur looked up at the carefree voice and was surprised to find that he didn't recognize this person. Then again, with so many people coming in from all the districts, he shouldn't have been. He didn't know everyone in Marvel, after all — and this might have been an off-duty SHIELD agent or even someone who lived in the area coming to seek shelter from the storm of the war.

He had short blond hair and a smile that never left his face as he came down the stairs, though what intrigued Kaldur most was the color of his eyes — a deep, almost icy blue that seemed to reflect the weather that felt more like winter to Kaldur than autumn.

The boy paused when he saw Kaldur, looking him over for a moment before he grinned and put his hand out. "Bobby Drake."

"Kaldur Ahm," he said, taking the offered hand with a surprised smile. "What brings you here?"

"Mad scientist grabbed the rebel group I was working in," Bobby said, pulling a face. "Believe me when I say you do _not_ want to know the rest of it."

Kaldur blinked, looking more closely at the young man for the first time. He _did_ look pale and tired, and Kaldur could see a few yellowish bruises that were still healing. But he hadn't noticed that at first, too caught up in Bobby's bright smile when Kaldur had just been thinking that he missed having that warmth back home.

He really had needed this break, he realized.

"And what brings you here?" Bobby asked, breaking into Kaldur's thoughts.

"Diplomacy."

"Gesundheit."

Kaldur couldn't help but laugh at that. "They're gathering a few representatives from the different districts. Four sent me."

"Oh, right. You were in the Games. The diver they kept cutting the feed on." Bobby smirked. "What, do you have a worse potty mouth than even the Games censors can stand?"

Once more, Kaldur couldn't stop his laugh. "No, nothing quite like that," he said. "I simply tried to tell the truth on live television, and the Capitol, of course, could not stand for it."

"Oh. So you did get censored," Bobby said, though he paused to thank Mrs. O'Malley for bringing him some cider as well and grinned Kaldur's way. He really did light up like the neon lights of the Capitol every time he smiled. "So, diver to diplomat. Congratulations, I guess."

"I'm not entirely sure what to make of my position myself," Kaldur admitted with a quiet smirk, knowing that if he were to truly get into the details of everything that had happened in Four to lead him to that point, they would be there until well after night had fallen.

"Yeah, well, war does weird things," Bobby said. "I grew up in District Eight, and here I am in some crazy mansion where everyone around us is making history." He grinned crookedly. "Seriously. Spend a few days here and I guarantee you'll overhear at _least_ one major decision being made in the halls per day."

"That seems a little lax in security," Kaldur said with a frown.

"Not really," Bobby said with a shrug. "This director's pretty open, even if you're not in SHIELD. Scott was telling me he called him out on the fact that only the SHIELD-affiliated people were really getting any intel—"

"Scott?" Kaldur frowned.

"Yeah, he was part of the group that got me out of that evil lab. _Pretty_ sure he's got a thing going with the redhead he was with, if you ask me, but I was also still slightly drugged when I met them, so everything had a weird glow to it?" Bobby shrugged. "She probably was _not_ on fire. Probably."

Once again, Kaldur found that he couldn't help but laugh — this time at the casual way Bobby talked about the whole experience. It had obviously been traumatic for him, and yet here he was making jokes… "I think more people could learn from your approach to life, Bobby."

"Sure, I'll take the compliment," Bobby said with an easy shrug. "But, uh, maybe you could tell me what I'm doing right so I could keep doing it?" He grinned brilliantly at Kaldur, and Kaldur returned the smile; there was no other reaction to have in the face of such brilliant optimism.

"I've been through the Games, through war, and through political intrigue," Kaldur explained, and Bobby winced, already looking sympathetic. "I was just thinking about my place in the universe and weighing out heavy matters, and here you are fresh from your own trauma with enough warmth in your heart to share with me on a cold autumn day."

Bobby blinked, a pink color rising up on his cheeks before he cleared his throat. "Well, okay, I wasn't expecting that, and I don't know what to do with that now except say 'yeah, you're totally right' and run with the ego boost."

Kaldur smirked into his mug of cider. "I was only telling you the truth."

"Yeah, but I'm not used to…" Bobby waved a hand and trailed off. "Anyway, I'm glad I could help, I guess. Not sure what I did, but you seem less depressed, so mission accomplished?"

"Yes, mission accomplished," Kaldur agreed, still smirking hard as he went back to his cider. He hadn't met anyone so transparent before, and it was a welcome break from the intrigue of the politics of Four. He loved his home, yes, but a little levity was clearly the cure for a heavy heart.

There was what Kaldur had assumed was a comfortable silence between them for a long moment, but Bobby clearly couldn't simply sit in the quiet, because he cleared his throat when it was clear Kaldur intended to fall into thought and leaned forward. "So, you headed back to Four after this?"

Kaldur nodded. "My people expect me to speak for them, so I must keep my word, even if no one there believes I will."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Kaldur let out a long breath. "It means I agreed to act as a representative of my people, and I still intend to do so." He paused, wondering how much of Four's politics had trickled into the news of the rest of Marvel. Likely not much, since the war was still on. "I was supposed to be married."

"Oh." Bobby looked like he was trying to figure out what to say. "I'm sorry? Congratulations? I'm not sure what the proper response is here."

Kaldur laughed lightly. "I'm not entirely sure either. It was a political marriage. Neither of us was in love. But we had given our word, and now, we must both pay for breaking it."

"I must not understand Four," Bobby said, slowly shaking his head. "It sounds to me like you got a lucky break."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I mean, if someone tried to stick _me_ with a person I didn't love, I'd be pretty miserable. And as far as I can tell, you're human." Bobby gestured to Kaldur with one hand. "You are human, right?"

"As far as I'm aware, yes," Kaldur said, amused despite himself at the path Bobby was taking to explain himself.

"Then you're allowed to have emotions, man!" Bobby shook his head. "Look, I'm not from Four, but where _I'm_ from, people get married either because they're in love or they knocked up their girlfriend." He paused, grinned a little more crookedly, and asked, "You didn't do that, did you?"

Kaldur burst out with a laugh. "If I had, I would be dismembered and would still be lying in the streets as warning to anyone who tried such a thing!"

"Your fiance sounds terrifying. Just so you know."

Kaldur was still chuckling to himself as he shook his head. "No, I could manage her on my own," he said.

"Yeah, you look like it," Bobby said, then caught himself, dragging his gaze from Kaldur's arms in particular. "I mean… well… yeah, that's what I meant, I guess."

Kaldur felt his face growing warm, and not from the cider. "I'm a diver," he said almost reflexively. "I'm used to constantly battling the sea."

"It shows."

Kaldur smiled at that, though neither of them quite knew what to say with that hanging in the air between them. Kaldur would have turned to the cider, but he'd taken the last sips of it moments before, and now, he could only watch as Bobby instead used his own mug to hide the way his cheeks had turned pink.

"What about you?" Kaldur asked when Bobby, too, had run out of the amber liquid to use as a defense as solid as the cider itself.

"What about me?"

"You said that you were working with a group of rebels. How did you find yourself in their company?" Kaldur asked, leaning forward with honest interest. He didn't know much about what the other districts had been up to, and from the sound of things, they had not been idle.

"Hey, when the Games got interrupted and the Head Gamemaker himself declared a revolution?" Bobby shrugged openly. "I didn't like the Capitol in the first place, and there were a few kids that felt the same way. It started with smashing up some Sentinels and rescuing a few kids who had been locked up for stupid things — like my friend Jamie who literally just keeps finding himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. I swear, he's in everything…" Bobby shook his head, realizing he was getting off track, then looked up at Kaldur, who was giving him his full attention, and blushed. "Maybe 'rebel group' is giving us more credit than we deserve. We just started out as a bunch of angry kids."

"But you didn't stay that way," Kaldur pointed out. "You said you were captured."

"Yeah, well, once the borders between districts started to blur, it was easy to find other rebels. Just follow the trail of Sentinel and Hydra destruction, right?" Bobby shrugged again. "I know there was a bigger group in Nine, and we got a few kids from Ten like that guy Red that came in with me. Big guy? Noticeably lopsided?"

"I'm not familiar," Kaldur said.

"Right. You wouldn't be if you just got here." Bobby shook his head. "We were the only two that made it out alive."

Kaldur frowned, especially because Bobby was so open with his expressions that it was all too easy to see the grief tugging at the corners of his mouth. He reached out to put his hand on Bobby's arm, hoping the gesture as well as his own expression conveyed that he was honestly sad to hear it. "I hope that they are resting well in the world beyond us."

"Yeah," Bobby said softly, then tried to shrug it off, pulling his bright smile back into place. "Anyway, I'm out now, and Red's got a girlfriend who's pretending not to be totally all over him and ready to start a family, like, yesterday, so… happy endings all around, right?"

"I hope so," Kaldur agreed. "You certainly seem to have earned it."

"Hey, same to you," Bobby said. "I mean, you just said you got out of a loveless marriage. There's got to be something better out there for you, right?"

"I would hope so," Kaldur said.

"Pretty sure the universe owes anyone who died in the Games about seven years of _good_ luck. Sort of the reverse of breaking a mirror. Or something like that." Bobby smiled crookedly. "At least, that's how I'd run things."

Kaldur smirked. "I think the universe would be a far brighter and more interesting place if you did run it."

Bobby grinned quietly and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "You don't have any meetings this morning, do you? The whole… council of the districts or whatever they're calling it?"

"You make it sound like a novel," Kaldur laughed.

"Says the guy who talks like he walked out of a Shakespearean play."

"You sound like my friend John."

"I don't know your friend John, so I don't know if that's a compliment or not," Bobby pointed out.

"He is one of the wisest people I know," Kaldur said with a soft smile. "So yes, it is a compliment."

"Well, that's good."

Kaldur couldn't help but smile. "He accuses me of having swallowed a book of poetry."

"Well, now I feel like I've been outdone. I barely even know the name Shakespeare to use it. I'm going to go ahead and blame the fact that the staff has been bringing books around to anyone who was on bed rest, and I got a copy of _Much Ado About Nothing_. Which I did not understand." Bobby leaned forward with a troublemaking spark in his gaze. "I think they were personally insulted. All this time keeping Capitol hands off their library and all I got out of it was that maybe people who were raised in Eight and didn't have access to much reading material shouldn't be given Shakespeare while still half drugged."

Kaldur laughed outright. "I'm sure it was a sight to see!"

"Oh yeah. I'm made for entertainment," Bobby agreed, getting Kaldur to laugh all over again.

"Would you like to take a walk with me?" Kaldur asked suddenly — surprising Bobby into stopping his own laughter and blinking at him in obvious shock.

"What?"

"I could use a little light and laughter in my life right now, and you seem to be full of both," Kaldur explained. "Would you spend some time with me?"

Bobby blinked once, then twice, before he broke into a quiet grin. "Yeah, sure. I don't have anything on the schedule today anyway. I think I can pencil you in."

Kaldur grinned at him as he got to his feet. He'd meant what he said. He really did need a break from intrigue. And with his home full of broken promises and distrust, it seemed Seven had exactly the antidote.

He simply hadn't expected that antidote to be a boy from Eight with ice-blue eyes.


	70. Chapter 70: What Needs Saying

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We thought we'd bring you one of those chapters where we cover several points of view at once so we can check in on how things are going.**

 **Thank you to all the writers who reviewed the most recent chapter and others (we love marathon reviews!) and to TRV, thank you for your double review as well! We agree: both Kaldur and Kory deserve happiness, really. (But we're biased and think that of _all_ our characters.)**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy- What Needs Saying**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 _Do not dwell in the past, do not dream of the future, concentrate the mind on the present moment. - Buddha_

* * *

 **Natasha Romanoff**

 **Formerly of District Two**

* * *

Natasha wasn't entirely sure what she had done to draw down Kory Anders' attention, but somehow, she had it. Her full attention — when it wasn't occupied by Dick Grayson, of course.

It had started innocently enough. Kory had introduced herself, engaged in a little small talk… Honestly, Natasha had assumed that Kory was trying to reach out because Natasha had been in Hydra and not SHIELD when the war began, and there was still a bit of a divide between the groups of tributes based on where they had been placed. She hadn't thought much of the overly friendly gestures.

She also hadn't thought much of it when Kory turned the conversation toward Clint. After all, Clint's declaration in their Games had been one of the more dramatic, head-turning moments outside of the interactions between the members of Team Awesome and the large alliance Steve, Tony, and Logan had mustered, so Natasha was used to people bringing it up. Especially now that she and Clint were on the same side.

With Kory in particular, it wasn't surprising to find the conversation turning to romance when it was no secret Kory and her boyfriend were on the fast track to getting married young.

But Kory's conversations had started to turn from understandable into outright pushing after the engagement — and that _was_ a surprise to Natasha. She had assumed (apparently incorrectly) that Kory would be too caught up in her own happiness to care about anyone else.

But with Kory's fiance promised to Charles Xavier twice a week, that meant Kory found ways to ask Natasha when she thought she and Clint would settle down, what kind of wedding they'd have…. It would be more annoying if she wasn't so frustratingly _genuine_ about all of it, too.

Kory wasn't the only one pushing, either, and that more than anything else finally had Natasha stalking down the hallway that morning on a mission. This had gone on long enough, and she was going to put a stop to it.

Clint and Kate were having coffee together, laughing and teasing each other like they usually did. They'd gotten closer since the mission to kill Viper, and Natasha was honestly surprised that Kate wasn't among those pushing for more — or maybe she was and she was pushing _Clint_ and not Natasha. Or maybe Clint had told her that he'd started sneaking into Natasha's room every night since that mission to kill Viper; that might have been enough to keep his partner in crime sated for gossip for a while. The amazing part was that Kate hadn't let that secret spill if that was the case.

As for Clint himself, he only grinned at Natasha when he saw her come in, as if they hadn't seen each other yet. "Hey, Tash. Sleep well?"

Natasha smirked as she sat down beside him. "You know I did," she said before she simply pulled him into a long and involved kiss that wasn't at all appropriate for the setting.

By the time the kiss broke, Clint was grinning breathlessly as he traced his fingers over her shoulders. "Wow. Good morning to you too. Any special reason for the 'hello' I should know about?"

Natasha shrugged, still wearing the same smirk as she kept her hands on his chest. "Some people seem to be under the delusion that since we aren't publicly declaring our affection and making out in the hallway, we're not together."

Clint grinned, tracing the line of the shirt and the way it sat on her shoulders. "Shame on them for annoying you."

Natasha couldn't help but smile at that. "So," she said, "I thought I'd set the record straight."

"Get it out of your system?" Clint teased.

"Yes."

"Good," Clint said and pulled Natasha into another long kiss — while Kate had to set her coffee down to keep from snorting it out of her nose laughing at the two of them and at the expressions on the faces of the staff, agents, and kids around them.

* * *

 **Scott Summers**

 **Howlett Estate**

* * *

For _most_ of the people around the estate, the general feeling seemed to be one of relief. Hydra was falling apart at the seams, the Capitol and Thanos were long gone, and one by one, the districts were picking themselves up out of the dust.

There were plenty of reasons to celebrate — but honestly, Scott couldn't help but see all the damage that had been done.

He'd been talking with Bobby, one of the kids he and Barbara had helped to rescue from Norman Osborn's labs, and just the little time Scott had spent with the guy left him with a clear impression of how _much_ Hydra and others had torn apart innocents. The war wasn't going to stop affecting people like him just because it was over.

And Scott's mind had been turning on that question for a while now. He'd already heard SHIELD agents talking about the "transition" to peacetime — and then what? There were former rebels living in this estate-turned-base that needed homes, not to mention the orphans that had been uprooted not once but twice. And what was the plan for them when this stopped being a base and went back to being a private residence?

Not to mention Scott was _sure_ that this wasn't just a problem in District Seven. He was sure he hadn't even seen all the people within the _district_ that needed help, let alone within all of Marvel.

But to listen to the SHIELD agents talk, things were wrapping up nicely, and they were ready to retire or go back to their old jobs… and it wasn't sitting well with Scott.

He was honestly just waiting for an opportunity to talk to either the director or to Charles Xavier, though both of them were hard to find. Logan was always in meetings or running missions, and Charles had a lot on his plate between helping Kate, Clark, Bucky, and Jessica Drew — though, as Scott understood it, he'd been pulling Kate in to help with Jess when the former victor wasn't in detox recovering from the many addictive substances Viper had been slipping her. The two girls were actually getting along well, too, because of the similar Hydra conditioning experiences.

But for as important as both of their jobs were, Scott was determined not to let the _civilian_ costs of the war go unnoticed just because the little guys didn't have a SHIELD voice.

It was just a matter of lucky timing that Scott managed to run into Logan that afternoon. The director must have been between meetings or something; it didn't look like he was headed for a mission — or he'd have been headed the opposite direction for the armory or temporary hangar out on the lawn.

"Hey, I need to talk to you," Scott called out before Logan could turn the corner.

Logan stopped and turned his way. "Alright. Let's go, then." Logan gestured a different direction entirely from where he'd been going. "What's wrong?"

"I need a place to put everyone when the war's over," Scott explained as he caught up to Logan. "Not just the kids. A lot of people got displaced, experimented on, traumatized; there's a lot of people that need a safe home, and this—" He gestured around them. "—this is just temporary. War's ending; this won't be a base much longer."

"Kinda hate to call it a base _now_ ," Logan said. "But yeah." He took a moment to think it over. "Alright. We got a few options, but what are you thinkin'? They've been havin' meetings on some of the stuff like this, but I'll be honest, none of the big wigs've got clue one on what to do outside of puttin' up some halfway houses while people rebuild."

"That's a start," Scott said diplomatically. "But I'm more concerned about making sure people feel safe. Have you seen some of the rebels that escaped the other districts that were under Hydra control? Half of them are my age or younger and came back with scars that aren't going to heal."

Logan nodded at that. "I've got a group workin' on makin' a network to pick up at-risk girls." He shook his head. "You wouldn't believe how big of a thing that is just for _spies_. And that's not even touchin' the _other_ crap they're tryin' to snatch little girls for."

"I'd believe it," Scott said flatly. He took a deep breath and let it out. "I just need help getting something set up. Some kind of safe haven. I know I'm not qualified for the worst cases of brainwashing, but at the very least, we can offer a place to _live_ and recover and be around other people."

"If this place won't cut it, then maybe you oughta start lookin' around and I'll have somethin' built," Logan said.

"I'm not asking to take over your home," Scott clarified, one hand up with his palm toward Logan. "That's not fair to you, and you've made it pretty clear you're not comfortable with this whole setup."

"Because it's not really my home, Slim. Not to me," Logan said. "And the part I'm not comfortable with is the SHIELD interference. They're not gonna be based here forever. I wouldn't do that to the staff _or_ the district. But the other part of it — the kids? I don't think that Mrs. Hopkins has been this cheerful since I was a kid."

Scott couldn't help but smirk at that. "It is a really good setup. If it wasn't for all the agents and missions being run from here, honestly, this place would be perfect for what I'm thinking as it is."

"That's about to change," Logan said. "We're gettin' ready for a bunch of meetings to deal with how to end it and how to move forward. I'd bet that once that's public knowledge, SHIELD will be outta here."

Scott nodded thoughtfully. "Alright, well, if you're fine with it, I'd like to talk to the staff about setting up a haven for kids and teens especially that got displaced or traumatized. And I'll need to talk to Professor Xavier about getting some specialists up here too. I know he's focusing on the worst cases, but we could use some good help if he's got any recommendations."

"I'll go with you," Logan said. "I was plannin' on suggestin' the girls that Sin's little task force picks up come here where they can be helped anyhow, and we know there's room to spare."

Scott raised an eyebrow at that and then nodded. "Yeah, we can work with that," he said. "That's kind of hand-in-hand with what I'm thinking anyway. Glad to know Barbara and I aren't the only ones with that idea."

"For a problem like that?" Logan asked, almost frowning his way. "I'd be pissed if you two were the only ones thinkin' that way."

"We're the ones on the ground seeing it," Scott pointed out. "Heck, I lived it. Harder to see it when you're caught up in the other stuff."

"Yeah, well," Logan said half under his breath. "It's the same across the districts, too. We won't be able to bring everyone here, but maybe a few of the other victors could oversee somethin' similar on the other side of the country."

Scott nodded, letting his honest relief show. "Great. Just get me in touch with whoever I need to be working with so we can coordinate and make sure no one falls through the cracks just because the district boundaries aren't so rigid anymore."

"Just lines on maps for the most part," Logan told him. "Fences have been comin' down through the war. Anything left will be torn down." He tipped his chin toward the hall. "Who you want to talk to first? The staff or Charlie?"

"The staff," Scott said with a nod. "I know the professor's in with Barnes right now."

"Lead the way," Logan said. "If we're lucky, we won't catch Alfred and Mrs. Hopkins."

"Yeah, I heard that rumor too."

"Not a rumor."

Scott smirked at that. "Well, good for them. Seems like everyone is headed that way as the fighting dies down. I think the whole place heard the moment Kory Anders said 'yes'."

Logan didn't react to that more than to tip his head as they headed toward the kitchens to find Mrs. Hopkins and whoever might be assisting Mrs. O'Malley in prep work. When they got there, most of the staff was there, working, and sure enough, Alfred was right in there with them — having slipped his way in to help _finally_.

"If you have a moment," Logan said once they were in the kitchen and the door had closed behind him, "I'd like to get your opinion on what to do with the estate once SHIELD moves out. Scott has an idea he'd like to propose, but you don't have to answer right away. Take your time. Think it over."

Everyone in the kitchen stopped what they were doing and turned their attention to Scott as Logan gestured for him to go ahead, stepping back slightly himself.

Scott took a deep breath and let it out. "I know you were more than a little swamped with a huge rush of people when we all showed up here," he started out, since he didn't want anyone to think he didn't know exactly how _much_ had happened. "But I'm trying to set up a haven for kids and teenagers who don't have a safe place to go anymore — especially anyone who got caught up in Hydra or anyone who lost family. They need someplace they can recover and feel safe and try their hand at having a childhood and a family before they have to face adulthood too soon, if that makes sense."

There was a long moment of absolute silence in the kitchen before Mrs. O'Malley simply started to cry quietly, and in a flash, Mrs. Hopkins made her way over to her to hand her a handkerchief and try to help her pull it together. But they didn't discuss it before Mrs. Hopkins answered in a tight tone. "Of course we'd love to help those young people. It's not even a question."

Scott wasn't sure what to make of the reaction — especially Mrs. O'Malley's — but he nodded all the same. "I really appreciate it," he said sincerely.

"It can work the same way it has been since the start of the war," Logan said, more to Mrs. Hopkins than anyone. "I'll fund it, and if you need more help, say the word. We'll pull more people in."

Scott turned to face Logan in obvious surprise. "You don't have to — you've already given up your home—"

But this time, Logan didn't correct him as he did in the office they'd used to talk earlier, though he did pause. "I can't justify keeping this place just for me. Besides, it's a good cause."

"And I'm quite sure you won't be alone," Alfred said. "Believe me when I tell you that I have no doubts Master Bruce will want to help as well. He's practically adopted young Timothy into the fold already; it's a cause dear to his heart." He paused. "And mine."

"And," Logan said, with a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "it'd have the old man rolling over in his grave. So. Must be the right thing to do."

"Oh, without a doubt," Alfred said dryly.

Scott looked between the members of the staff — who were all clearly emotional — and Logan, who looked as if this was a simple proposition. Scott nodded, a small smile tugging at his own expression. "Great," he said. "I'll talk to the professor about getting some professionals to help and getting a name to refer the worst cases to, but… thanks. Really. I think this is going to make a difference."

* * *

 **Alfred Pennyworth**

* * *

Timothy Drake really wasn't much older than young Richard Grayson had been when he was orphaned and came to live at Wayne Manor — though Tim was certainly as small and skinny now as Dick had been then.

The similarities were truly astounding: both young orphans with blue eyes, black hair, and a surprising ability for jokes and smiles despite hardship so early in life. And those similarities only left Alfred more determined to nurse Tim to greater health. He could see Dick — and, yes, a young Bruce as well — in the tired, injured, mourning little boy.

At first, Tim had spent much of his time in the care of the medical personnel there — for good reason, obviously. He had been tortured, starved, mistreated… there was so much the doctors needed to do for him.

But Alfred knew that there was far more that the young man needed than mere medicine.

He didn't expect the young man to immediately trust him, of course. Not with everything he'd been through. But he did make it a point to keep Tim well-fed, to bring him his meals while he was in recovery — and then, when he was allowed to roam freely, Alfred made himself available should Tim ever decide he wanted to talk.

And talk he did.

Alfred was frankly astounded with the young man and his intense curiosity about the world around him. Dick was right: with everything Tim had been through, he was amazingly, resiliently, innocent. He seemed more interested in learning, reading, observing — drinking everything in at once — than he did in dwelling on all that he'd lost. In that way, he was so much like Bruce that Alfred found himself watching Tim more closely to make sure that he didn't mask his grief entirely with busyness.

Which led to some insightful conversations at tea time, a tradition Alfred was fast coming to look forward to.

What's more, Alfred knew that he wasn't the only one who had come to enjoy Tim's company. Most of the Howlett Estate staff were also trying to take the young man under their wings, so Tim was never lacking for company or attention. Even Master Bruce couldn't hide the almost wistful smile when he was near Timothy - though part of that might have been due to him throwing himself into how to structure out this new endeavor that young Mr. Summers had suggested.

One particular afternoon, Alfred found Tim with a small stack of books from the library sitting on his bedside table — the young man had been beyond excited to have access to books to read — and talking with Mrs. Hopkins about how much he had appreciated her reading recommendations.

Alfred couldn't stop his smile when he saw the two of them, especially when Mrs. Hopkins looked so perfectly pleased with herself, even if the casual observer wouldn't have known to look for the little flush on her cheeks or the way she straightened her shoulders.

"I've found that it's best to assume any suggestion our good Mrs. Hopkins gives is a good one," Alfred said, drawing the attention of the two people already in the room.

Tim grinned crookedly and waved at him as Mrs. Hopkins tipped her head in a nod to acknowledge him. "Hey, Alfred," Tim said. "Kind of late in the game to be practicing your eavesdropping skills when the war's almost over, isn't it?"

Alfred smirked. "Really, you and Master Dick are a terrible influence on each other."

"You mean 'great influence'," Tim said, then smiled as he reached for a book from his stack. "Don't let me interrupt, you two. I'm just going to read if you want to… do… anything."

"Terrible influences," Alfred said, shaking his head, though Tim simply grinned at him without looking up from his book.

"You know, if you want to keep them from being such influences on each other, he could always stay here with us," Mrs. Hopkins pointed out with an ill-hidden smirk. It was a longstanding tease, ever since Tim had arrived: the claim the staff had on him in addition to the one Bruce and Alfred had clearly staked.

"Nonsense," Alfred chuffed. "Once we are able to rebuild our home, you will already have dozens of children to care for — and will you leave me with nothing?"

"Really, Mr. Pennyworth, you act like it isn't common knowledge ever since that engagement was announced that you'll soon be surrounded by little ones," Mrs. Hopkins said, her chin tipped up. "I'm sure you'll be perfectly busy soon enough."

"And you act like it isn't common knowledge that the good director of SHIELD has found shelter in the arms of his 'bodyguard'," Alfred said, matching her haughty tone. It was all part of the joke, really.

But Mrs. Hopkins' eyes narrowed at the mention of Skye, and the teasing light dropped from her eyes. "Well, we'll just have to see, won't we?"

"You know she's not playing him, right?" Tim said, drawing both of their attention back to him.

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Timothy, what do you know?"

Tim shrugged easily. "I know that she's come in to talk to Dr. Simmons a hundred times, even when she's in the middle of a checkup, freaking out and worried that she's going to screw him up somehow just because she's technically both a Capitolite and a SHIELD agent, and there's some history there." He looked up to meet their gazes. "Not hard to figure out. She doesn't have a poker face, you know."

As Mrs. Hopkins blinked a few more times than was necessary, Alfred laughed. "You don't miss anything, do you?"

Once more, Tim gave the two of them that same easy shrug. "Hey, there's not much else for me to do right now other than observe and read. You think I don't hear all the gossip?" His smile turned into something more troublemaking. "Including the gossip about you two?"

Both Alfred and Mrs. Hopkins managed to make the same noise in response to the insinuation. "I assure you—" Alfred started to say, but Tim just laughed.

"Uh-huh," he said. "So you and Bruce Wayne _haven't_ been discussing a much smaller house than the last one you had — and looking nearby — to lighten your load so you can come _here_ more often?"

For the first time since he was a young man, Alfred felt his face flush, especially as Mrs. Hopkins turned with one eyebrow raised his way.

"Well, my work here is done," Tim said, getting to his feet and pulling his books into his arms, leaving without any further fanfare — and without doing a thing to assuage the loaded silence that had descended on the room.

"Is that true?" Mrs. Hopkins asked after the silence had lasted as long as either of them could manage.

Alfred cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it's something Master Bruce and I had discussed… Of course, we also discussed rebuilding the manor to its old splendor so that any future little ones would grow up with the space to thrive…"

"Yes, that would be good for them," Mrs. Hopkins agreed primly.

"But the consideration of location," Alfred said slowly. "That much is true. There will be no more living on opposite sides of the district center."

Mrs. Hopkins considered him for a long time before, finally, she broke into a smile warmer than anything he had seen from her since her husband passed. "Yes," she said, nodding slowly. "That would be much better."


	71. Chapter 71: Rumor Mill

**(A/N): Let's check in with some of our kids from Twelve, huh? They need love ;)**

 **Thank you to SlimSummers2002 for your review of the last chapter! We're speeding along toward the end here, and we always love hearing from our readers and our writers!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy-One - Rumor Mill**

 **Kate Bishop, formerly of District Twelve**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _I don't quite know  
How to say  
How I feel  
Those three words  
Are said too much  
They're not enough"_

 _-Snow Patrol, "Chasing Cars"_

* * *

Kate was feeling a lot more like herself, but she still had to meet with Charles regularly. He had insisted on talking to her for at least a little bit every day to make sure she was recovering well. She didn't necessarily have to have a full appointment, but she did have to check in with him or Raven.

But since Raven was _clearly_ happy with Gar, Kate didn't want to interrupt them.

On the other hand, Charles was getting busier and busier as the war drew to a close. Kate could tell. He seemed to be weighing out something or other with Erik Lensherr — they were spending a lot more time together than usual — and Kate hardly saw him relaxing at all. After all, in addition to helping Kate, he was also dealing with others who had been wronged by Hydra, not to mention several cases of PTSD and other issues arising from the Capitol's rule as well as the war itself.

And that was just the psychological stuff.

On top of that, Kate knew that Charles had been attending plenty of meetings and getting involved in the rebuilding efforts. _And_ she had seen him putting his head together with one of the rebel kids, Scott, who wanted Charles' advice on how to offer a home and refuge to people affected by the war — beyond the ones that SHIELD employed.

"You know," she said as she sat down in Charles' office and made herself comfortable across from the tired-looking victor, "you have to take care of _yourself_ too."

Charles raised an eyebrow, obviously not expecting her to start their session that way. "Oh?"

Kate gestured to him with one hand. "Yeah. I know you've got your hands full with all of our hangups, but you look like someone sucked all the life out of you."

Charles chuckled and shook his head at Kate's description. "I'm just tired, Kate. We all are. This push to end the war is exhausting for everyone involved."

"Don't I know it."

Charles smiled and leaned forward. "But we're not here to talk about my sleeping habits, Kate, though I do appreciate the concern."

"Hey, when my shrink looks like _that,_ I can't _not_ say something," Kate pointed out. "I am a Hawkeye, after all. I can't ignore the evidence of my eyes."

"No," Charles agreed warmly. "And to be honest, Kate, I'm glad to see that you're taking more of an interest in everyone else. Hydra limited your interactions with your friends and loved ones; the fact that you feel confident enough to try to help without being prompted is an excellent sign of your progress."

Kate blinked at Charles. She hadn't _meant_ anything by it; she was just…

"You spend so much time thinking about how far you have to go, Kate," Charles prompted her when she didn't say anything. "But I feel it's just as important to see how far you've _come_."

"I didn't think of it that way," Kate admitted, her voice a bit softer as she reached for the quiver that was never there at times like this — only when she was on a mission. She knew that Charles had seen it, and she knew that he had pointed it out to her as an unconscious gesture showing her anxiety. She didn't think she'd stop anytime soon, though; they'd been spending their time working on excising Hydra's influence, not on looking at the little things she did that helped her deal with the rest of it.

"That's just it," Charles said gently. "You _didn't_ think of it that way. Don't you hear yourself, Kate? You aren't thinking through every response and evaluating it in relation to Hydra's plans for you. You're simply allowing yourself to be Kate Bishop." He leaned back and smiled. "And I have to say: I quite enjoy her company."

Kate couldn't help but smile at that, though she tried to play off how much the compliment meant to her by joking around: "Well, yeah. Obviously. I'm amazing."

"You are," Charles agreed. "And I hope that you can see it more clearly even after we go our separate ways."

"You planning to go back to Ten?" Kate asked. She knew that there were rumors that he and some of the other victors were going to help set up the transition of leadership of Marvel into something much, _much_ better than the Red Skull or Thanos, but she wanted to hear it from Charles herself.

"I'm still considering my options," Charles admitted. "There is so much to do in the wake of this war — and so much I feel drawn to help with."

"There's only one of you," Kate pointed out gently.

Charles almost couldn't stop his laugh. "Are you looking out for me, Kate?"

"Well, yeah," Kate said with a careless shrug, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Someone has to."

Charles shook his head, his eyes sparkling with ill-hidden pleasure. "You've really come so far, Kate."

* * *

 **Billy Kaplan**

 **Howlett Estate**

* * *

It had taken a long time to get used to this _completely new_ setup.

When Billy and the others in the little group of rebels from Twelve had agreed to work with SHIELD outside the borders of their district, it had been with the understanding that Kate had _needed_ something good in her life. (And she had.) But then, there had been a bombing, and then there had been all sorts of missions, and then America had gone to Five, and then Billy and his friends had all gotten spread to the winds….

Now, some of the pressure was starting to come off, and the focus was more on governing, leadership, diplomacy…

Basically, things had gotten a lot more _boring_ lately.

Sure, Billy was glad the war was ending. He was. _Of course_ he was. But now, he and Teddy were stuck in this weird limbo of trying to figure out what to do when it seemed like everything was … settling.

Not that boredom was _entirely_ detrimental. It did give him plenty of time to spend with Teddy, after all.

And sure, that meant plenty of makeout sessions, but actually, they were spending a great deal of their time people-watching… and then reporting their findings to Kate. She was holed up with Kurt half the time, and while Billy and Teddy both were romantics at heart, they felt like she needed to be dragged out into the real world.

They had, for example, already seen America looking at Kara Danvers' older sister. They'd seen her do a slow once-over and bite her lip before she followed her into the hall — and Teddy won the bet on how long it would take America to ask if Alex was single. Teddy had said it would be immediate; Billy had (naively) assumed there would be _some_ chatting up first.

At the moment, though, they were watching a different soon-to-be couple, one that was _way_ slower.

Kaldur Ahm was _supposedly_ there to represent Four's interest in becoming their own independent nation with strong alliances and trade with the rest of Marvel, but he'd already made his case at one of the first meetings. Now? Well, Billy and Teddy both were of the (correct) opinion that he was sticking around for _other_ reasons.

Teddy had gone to get some hot chocolate, but he returned with two mugs in hand and sat down on the couch by Billy, handing off one mug and grinning. "Did I miss anything?"

"Not much," Billy promised. "Mostly a lot of staring." He gestured to where Kaldur was _supposedly_ reading through some briefing materials for another meeting of the bigwigs, though he'd looked over to where Bobby was zonked out asleep on the other couch at least half a dozen times so far. "Which is nothing new."

"Running out of time before he has to go back to Four, isn't he?" Teddy asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Might be why he's taking so long," Billy pointed out. "Long-distance _sucks_."

"Yeah, but Bobby's displaced," Teddy argued. "Not like it would be hard for him to move districts again when he's sorta technically homeless."

Billy nodded thoughtfully, leaning into Teddy as he sipped on his hot cocoa. "Might still be in the closet," he said thoughtfully.

"Which one?"

Billy burst out laughing, drawing the attention of a few of the other people who were also in the living room — not that he cared much. "Oh yes. Both of them," he said before he kissed Teddy.

Teddy grinned into the kiss, one hand in Billy's hair, and when it broke, he just kept grinning. "Want to leave the slowpokes behind and show 'em how it's done?" he teased.

Billy grinned outright, stealing a much longer kiss. "Definitely."

* * *

 **Kate Bishop**

 **The Library of the Howlett Estate**

* * *

It was a habit at this point for Kate to go find Kurt after a session with Charles. Admittedly, it had started out as something of an emotional crutch, but now, she was looking _forward_ to spending some time curled up with him in the library as he worked on his German and she tried to pick it up through osmosis.

That's definitely what all the cuddling was for. Osmosis.

Kurt was already sitting in the window seat of the library with a book, and he looked up and grinned when Kate came in, scooting over to make space for her and rearranging himself so that she could lean against his chest and he could drape his arm around her shoulders. "How did your meeting with Charles go?"

"Pretty well, I think," Kate said with a smile as she leaned into him. "It sounds like he's getting ready to leave, and he made sure I had a written list of things I can work on…"

"Yes, I suppose with Hydra on the run, there won't be much reason for everyone to be in one place like this," Kurt agreed with a slight frown.

Kate picked her head up to look at him. "Where do you think you'll go?" she asked, watching him closely. She hadn't really thought much about _future_ plans when she'd been so focused on getting Hydra out of her head, but that session with Charles had her in a completely different mindset.

Kurt met her gaze, searching her expression for himself as well. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "I've gotten so used to having all our friends around us."

"Me too," she admitted, biting her lip before she stole a quick kiss that had them both smiling. "Maybe we could just… stay here? In Seven? Be close to Logan and… talk some of our other friends into sticking close…"

"I like the way you think," Kurt agreed, leaning forward to steal a kiss in return — though before they'd quite broken the kiss, the door to the library burst open, and they both startled and looked up to see a _grinning_ America Chavez pulling Alex Danvers inside by the hand and almost immediately starting to kiss the sense out of her before the door had even closed all the way.

"Woah-kay," Kate blurted out. "Okay. There are some things I don't need to — when did this even — what?"

The two girls paused long enough for America to look over her shoulder and then shoot Kate a grin that was full of all kinds of trouble. She still had her hands on Alex's waist, and Alex was laughing hard at America's expression. "Sorry, Princess, but you had your chance!"

"That's not what I — I didn't even know you two were—"

"We weren't until about half an hour ago," Alex said, her smile turning more crooked as America's hands slid a little higher.

"Okay, I so don't need to be here for this," Kate muttered, though when she looked up at Kurt, he was _obviously_ entertained and fighting back his own laughter.

"Go find your own privacy. Aren't you allowed to _share a room_?" America teased.

"That's not—"

"Snooze you lose!" America called back before Alex pulled her back into a kiss that definitely wasn't going to stop just because they had an audience.

Kurt wasn't even bothering to hide his laughter as he pulled Kate to her feet and kissed her cheek. "Come on, _liebling_. Obviously, these two need some privacy of their own."

"You're just tickled because you're a romantic."

"And?"

Kate shook her head at him but didn't have a good response for that, so she went ahead and let Kurt thread their fingers and lead the way out of the library — and away from the makeout session. "I'm sorry my friends are ridiculous."

"Ridiculous for trying to find some happiness now that Thanos is gone and Hydra is falling?" Kurt raised an eyebrow her way and then grinned outright and pulled her hand up to kiss the back of it. "Then call me ridiculous."

Kate burst out laughing, even though her cheeks were flushing bright pink. "I don't even know what to do with you sometimes!"

"That's a good thing, I hope," he teased.

"Definitely," she promised, pulling him into a longer kiss like the one they'd been _about_ to share in the library before America and Alex had shown up — though this one too was interrupted, this time by a shrill wolf whistle that split the air and had both Kate and Kurt blushing hard as they broke apart.

Unsurprisingly, another pair of Kate's friends was to blame.

"Oh, don't let us interrupt," Billy said, grinning wickedly and clearly entertained. "We'll just find a different hallway…"

Kurt was shaking his head by that time. "I'm beginning to think America was right about just hiding away," he whispered in Kate's ear, and she rolled her eyes at him and pushed him back at the shoulder.

"I'm _not_ taking romance advice from her."

"Why not? She's your best friend."

"She also interrupted quality German reading time!" Kate said, laughing despite herself at Kurt's expression of pure innocence. "Besides, didn't you say she threatened you when we started up? How are you taking _her_ side in all this?"

"Ah, but now _she_ is dating someone, and I want to see what it looks like when you threaten Alex," Kurt pointed out, an impish grin spreading over his features.

Kate blinked at him before she burst out laughing once more and threw her arms around him for another long, deep kiss, breaking only for air to turn slightly Billy and Teddy's way, with Kurt's arms still around her. "You can't use the library. America's got a girl in there," she informed her friends.

"Oh yeah. We saw," Teddy said, nodding and chuckling to himself.

"And we totally approve," Billy added.

Kate couldn't help but laugh at that. "Oh, I didn't know all the couples in the house had to get your stamp of approval first!"

"It's totally a thing," Teddy said with a crooked smirk.

"Like… have you noticed the groundskeeper has a thing for Mrs. Hopkins?" Billy said.

"I have not, no," Kate said, feeling slightly abashed that her reputation as a Hawkeye was taking such a hit.

"Yeah, well, at _least_ tell me you've noticed that she and Mr. Pennyworth are dancing around each other, or we're going to have to, like, limit your Kurt time until you can prove you're capable of _existing in the world around you_ ," Teddy teased, then grinned at Kurt. "No offense."

"I think you'd have to fight me on that, _mein Freund_ ," Kurt said with a smile.

"Same," Kate said, grinning Kurt's way before she shook her head at her two friends. "And duh, of course I've seen them. They're almost as hilarious to watch as Coulson and Agent May."

"Now there's a statement," Kurt laughed under his breath.

Kate grinned and kissed his cheek before she waved her hand Billy's way. "So you've just been, what, spying on everyone this whole time?"

"Hey, some of 'em need help," Teddy pointed out.

"Like the love triangle of butler, housekeeper, and groundskeeper?" Kate shot back, one eyebrow raised.

"I know; you'd think that by the time they got that old, they'd have figured this out, right?" Billy laughed.

Kate shook her head at her friends. "You're trouble."

"Don't we know it," Teddy said without missing a beat. "Besides, if we weren't, how would we enlist help in some of the worst cases?"

"If you're talking about that skinny orphan and Barbara Gordon—"

"No, no; those two are at least headed in the right direction," Billy said, holding a hand up.

"We're talking about the hot orator from Four and the cute little blond from Eight," Teddy explained.

"Sure _you're_ not the one with the problem, Wandering Eyes?" Kate teased.

"No, no; he's right," Billy put in. "They're both easy on the eyes."

"And they're taking _long walks_ and spending _hours_ just _talking_ and it's _killing us_ ," Teddy said, throwing his hands in the air.

Kurt chuckled, shaking his head at the two of them. "Let them come to it on their own."

"Fine," Billy said dramatically — though his expression said that the two of them were absolutely _not_ going to stop poking their noses into other people's business.

Kate couldn't stop laughing as her friends headed the opposite direction down the hallway, holding hands and _obviously_ flirting with each other, before she turned back to face Kurt. "Like I said: ridiculous."

"Maybe, but they have the right idea," Kurt teased right back.

"What? Spying on other people?"

"No, seizing the moment," Kurt said, pulling her into a kiss to illustrate his point — one that didn't end until Kate had her arms around his neck and was grinning hard by the time it broke.

"Okay, well, I definitely can't argue with you there," Kate breathed out.

Kurt smiled, already taking her hand to lead her away from what was apparently a much more heavily-trafficked hallway than they'd anticipated. "You can't really blame them."

"I so can. I've known them long enough."

"True," Kurt laughed. "I just meant that, with the war ending, like you said, it's time to look to the future. Can you blame them for wanting to help others find their happiness before the future passes them by?"

"You're such a romantic."

"But not wrong," Kurt said with a smile.

"No, never wrong," Kate laughed and kissed his cheek as they walked together arm-in-arm. "It's just one of the many things I love about you."

Kurt's grin went a little wider, and the very tips of his ears turned bright pink — though Kate wasn't far behind catching up to his deep blush when she realized what she'd _said_. "I love you too, Kate."

Kate nodded, probably a few times more than was necessary, and then simply stole a long enough kiss that they were well and truly caught up by the time she finally, _finally_ , got around to saying it back to him.

Because now, finally, she was sure she meant it.


	72. Chapter 72: Be It Ever So Humble

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! As we're starting to wrap this story up, it's time to start sending these kids back home, and who better to start out that journey than the queen of warmth and fluff, Ophelia Claire?**

 **Thank you as always to our reviewers. We love hearing from our readers and writers alike!**

* * *

 **Be It Ever So Humble**

 **Kara Danvers, District Five**

 **Written By Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _There_ is _a kind of magicness about going far away and then coming back all changed."_ \- Kate Douglas Wiggin, _New Chronicles of Rebecca_

* * *

Kara's foot tapped with nervous energy on the corrugated floor of the jet. It was not an unfamiliar situation — strapped into a seat with allies on either side of her, rocketing away from SHIELD's base — but this time, their destination wasn't a mission.

No, they were going _home._ For real.

Kara, Alex, Clark, Lois, Peter Quill, and — to Kara's mild surprise — Gamora were all on board. Bags and boxes of all the possessions they'd accumulated were stowed in the lockers and under seats. As strange as it seemed, they could return home.

Everything was _over_. Hydra had been wiped out of the districts. The highest-ranking officials were dead or locked up. Clark's mind was back where it should be.

And they'd be returning to civilian life. It was bizarre to think about. She'd spent time in the spotlight and then hidden away for so long that the idea of just rejoining life in Five seemed foreign… but not at all unpleasant.

She would be back with her family. She would be able to see James and Winn again. She could even pursue that internship with Cat Grant — had it really been only seven months since she'd been thinking about that? And at the same time, seven months seemed like an eternity.

 _Might be a touch overqualified now,_ she thought with a small smile.

Clark and Lois were seated next to one another, their heads close as they talked in hushed voices. The happiness in both of their eyes was evident, and it sparked a pang of… something in Kara's chest. Not jealousy, exactly, but something akin to regret — or nostalgia. The Games and the war had stolen time from the part of her life that was supposed to be carefree. She hoped she would still be able to go back and catch up on the moments she'd missed.

What _had_ she missed? She cycled through various birthdays and anniversaries in her mind. James' birthday had been a bit after her death. Winn's birthday and her own were close, in early spring, a couple months before the Reaping each year. Eliza and Jeremiah's anniversary was… soon, actually. Kara wasn't a hundred percent sure what day it was at the moment, but she knew it was early January and their anniversary was coming up soon. Alex's birthday had been in the middle of all the turmoil in October. They'd found a moment to share in the chaos and had split a cupcake. Kara looked at Alex in the seat across from her and caught her eye. Alex smiled at her knowingly.

"Ready to see Mom and Dad again?" she asked quietly. "Without a mask on?"

"More ready for this than anything ever," Kara replied. "I can't believe everything is just… back to normal. More or less, anyway."

Alex nodded. "I'm ready for things to settle down." She glanced off to the side for a moment. "I'm glad inter-district travel will be easier now."

Kara looked at her curiously. "Any reason in particular?" She was surprised to see a slight pink flush bloom on Alex's cheeks.

"I, ah… I promised America Chavez I'd buy her a coffee when everything had calmed down a little," Alex said.

Kara giggled and clapped her hands. "You're going on a _date!"_

"It's not — I mean — it's just _coffee_ —" Alex protested gently.

"It's _totally_ a date," Kara said. "You two will be _so_ cute together."

"Okay, and what about you?" Alex asked, trying to move past the topic. "I know you had a thing for Jam-"

"Hey _shush,_ " Kara hissed, glancing over at Clark, hoping he hadn't caught the name.

Clark glanced at her and chuckled. "Far be it from me to try and help you with your love life, but hypothetically, if I _were_ going to help you, I'd tell you that Jimmy might hypothetically have a thing for you too. Hypothetically." He winked and returned to his conversation with Lois.

Kara was blushing furiously as she glanced back at Alex, who was smirking.

"If I could offer a small piece of advice—" Peter began, and Kara groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"You see what you've started, Alex?"

Peter snickered quietly. "I was just gonna say go for it. You never know where love will find you, and the world can go sideways at any time." He glanced at Gamora and squeezed her hand gently.

Kara waited for the heat to fade from her cheeks and blew out a breath. "I take it all back. I'm fine with skipping this part of my life if it means no embarrassing love advice."

Alex laughed. "Oh, no. We have seven months of prime sister relationship time to catch up on."

"Oh boy, can't wait," Kara deadpanned, then laughed.

Small conversations carried them all the way to Five, and before long, Kara's stomach was dropping slightly as they began their descent. No setdowns in the woods this time, though; they were dropping down over the square in the middle of town, where the youth of the district had always gathered each year for the Reaping.

There was barely a bump as the jet touched down. Everyone undid their harnesses and began scooping up boxes and slinging bags over their shoulders. Kara slung a pack onto her back, slid her sword in its sheath onto her belt, and scooped up a box of clothes with one hand and her shield with the other as the ramp opened with a hum of machinery.

Cold air rushed in to greet them, and something shone bright outside, making Kara squint as they descended the ramp. As her eyes adjusted, she could see the cause. The town square was blanketed in a thin layer of snow that crunched gently under their feet as they stepped onto the ground. As Kara looked at her home through a citizen's eyes for the first time in over half a year, she saw signs of the devastation of the war.

Buildings with chunks of rubble blasted from the side, pockmarks in the streets that the snow didn't quite cover, sites of explosions that painted sooty black flowers across walls. But the people walking around seemed to hold their heads up with a new vigor for life, and Kara knew that her home would heal.

Their entrance hadn't gone unnoticed, of course. Many people had been in the square, and more were wandering in, wanting to see who was coming into town in a jet. Kara recognized faces from school, from her neighborhood, from the stores. People met her gaze with smiles and even a little bit of applause.

The smiles soon began to turn to frowns, however, as people's gazes drifted past the El/Danvers clan to the victor coming down the ramp — or, more specifically, to the woman next to him.

Angry mutters began to ripple through the crowd of people that had grown across the square. Kara caught the name "Thanos" more than once, and she thought she heard the word "traitor" thrown around as well.

Without warning, someone in the crowd shouted " _Murderer!_ " and a chunk of rubble came sailing out of the crowd and toward the group — right at Gamora. Several other members of the crowd gasped. Kara didn't even think; she just reacted. She dropped her box of clothes and jumped, planting one foot on the lip of the empty fountain and pushing off, gaining more height. Her timing was perfect: she swung her arm and batted the chunk of rubble back to the ground with her shield.

"She's not welcome here!" someone shouted from within the crowd — it sounded like the same person who'd thrown the rock. The crowd shifted as someone pushed to the front, and a man emerged. He had dark hair neatly styled and a bitter expression on his face. He looked vaguely familiar to Kara. "She's a war criminal," he said loudly. "And you're defending her?" Some of the crowd murmured their agreement.

Kara stepped back up onto the lip of the fountain, looking down at him. "Her _father_ is the criminal, and she is as much a victim of the Mad Titan's regime as any of us. You think if she had any loyalty to him she'd be anywhere but in SHIELD custody?" She studied the man for a beat, and his name came to her. "Ben Lockwood, right?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. " _Ex_ -professor? Dismissed from teaching for spreading xenophobic rhetoric to your students in what was supposed to be an unbiased setting? Now self-publishing a fringe newspaper with the same topics? How's that going?"

Lockwood looked uncomfortable as several people in the crowd snickered. "I — well—" he stammered.

Kara lifted her gaze and addressed the crowd. "I encourage you all to make your own decisions," she said. "Get to know Gamora. And take the word of those of who've actually gotten to know her." She locked eyes with Lockwood. "And know that if you decide to mess with her, you mess with all of us. And we've gone up against people _much_ more frightening than _you_."

Lockwood looked like he was about to argue, but Kara stared him down, her gaze boring into him. Finally, Lockwood silently conceded defeat, turning on his heel and striding out of the square with his hands jammed in his pockets.

Kara watched him go before stepping back down to the ground and turning to her cohorts. "Let's go home before we run into something else like that," she said, retrieving her box of clothes.

Peter and Gamora split off from the group after a couple blocks, heading for the Victor's Village while the rest continued toward the residential areas. Kara saw people shoveling snow off their sidewalks; many waved at the group as they passed, and a few calling greetings.

The Kent residence was the first one they came to, and Clark and Lois headed up the sidewalk while Kara and Alex stayed down near the street. Clark rang the doorbell and twined his fingers through Lois' while they waited. Before long, the door opened, and Mrs. Kent appeared, practically throwing herself into Clark's arms with a cry of happiness. Clark embraced his mother, his bulky frame enfolding her slim one. Kara could hear Martha's joyful sobs from the street, and she smiled at Alex before they quietly continued onward toward their own reunion.

It was several more minutes of walking before they reached the Danvers household, and suddenly, Kara couldn't wait any more. She sprinted up the sidewalk, dropping her shield and box as she went and pushing open the door, not even bothering to knock. Alex was just a few steps behind her.

Eliza and Jeremiah met them in the hall, clearly a little alarmed at someone coming through the door of their house, but their shock quickly turned to disbelief and joy as the family fell into a group hug on the ground. Kara found herself crying — whether from joy, relief, a catharsis of the last half year, or all three, she couldn't tell — but Jeremiah's arm was around her shoulders, and Eliza's warm hand clasped hers, and everything was right again.

Eventually, the hug broke apart, and the Danvers clan sat in a clump on the floor. Eliza kept taking Kara's face in her hands like she was reassuring herself that Kara was real and not going to disappear in front of her. Jeremiah kept squeezing Alex's shoulder.

"You have to tell us everything," Jeremiah said. "All that's happened to you over the last few months."

"We want to hear it all," added Eliza. "The good, the bad, and the ugly. We want to hear about the heroines our girls have become."

So Kara and Alex spent the next couple hours going back through the last half year. Kara began the tale, going all the way back to the Games and talking about everything that had happened away from the cameras. She told them about waking up at the SHIELD base with Alex at her side, about learning to fight again. Alex joined in, and the sisters wove their story together, each sister filling in information when the other didn't have it. Eliza and Jeremiah were attentive and quiet, asking the occasional question to clarify — but other than that, they just sat and took all the information in.

When Kara got to the part about coming to Five to capture Queen Bee, she saw a tiny smile on Jeremiah's face.

"You knew it was me, didn't you?" she asked.

He nodded. "It was such a relief to hear your voice — even if you were trying to disguise it. We knew at that point about the Tahiti program, but we had no idea who had been brought back or if you had been killed in the war afterward."

"We had been so worried about you too," Kara said. "We knew that Hydra had taken the district, and we didn't know if you were still safe."

"We knew enough to keep our heads down," Eliza said. "We helped people quietly."

"That's good," Kara said before she yawned hugely.

"All right, time for bed, I think," Eliza chuckled. "Even secret agents need their sleep."

Kara and Alex exchanged one more hug with their parents before heading back up to their old shared room. It was surprisingly unchanged from when Kara had left — the only major difference being that both of their beds had been stripped of bedclothes and had a neatly folded stack of linens sitting on the mattress. The girls quickly made their beds before changing into pajamas that were still in their dressers and turning out the lights.

"Welcome home, Supergirl," Alex said through the darkness as Kara was drifting off to sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Kara awoke slightly confused by her surroundings, but a fuzzy, warm feeling grew in her chest as she remembered where she was. The sun was coming through the small arched window over her bed and puddling on her blankets, and she drew the blankets around her, basking in the warmth for a couple minutes before sitting up. She swung her feet off the bed and onto the smooth, worn wood floor that felt foreign and yet familiar before padding softly downstairs.

The smells of breakfast reached her nose as she descended: bacon, pancakes and eggs. No doubt Jeremiah was cooking. The kitchen was bright and cheery when she entered, the sun coming in and filling the room with a warm glow as Jeremiah bustled around the stove, humming gently as he scooped a couple pancakes onto a plate. Alex and Eliza were already at the table, digging into plates of food.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," he said. "There's already some stuff on the table; I'm just finishing up a last batch of pancakes." Kara joined Eliza, and Alex and loaded up a plate. The eggs were fluffy, the bacon was crispy, and the pancakes were thick and soft.

"Sleep well, honey?" Eliza asked.

Kara nodded. She'd slept better than she could ever remember. She scooped up a forkful of eggs and grinned at the taste.

"As good as you remember?" Jeremiah asked with a smile as he joined them at the table.

"Better!" Kara said through another mouthful. "I missed this _so much_."

"I know something else you probably missed," Alex said. "And they missed you. They were already over here asking about you this morning."

Kara swallowed a chunk of pancake. "James and Winn?" she said excitedly. "They're okay and everything?"

Alex nodded. "I almost came and got you up, but I figured you might not want James to see you in your _pajamas_ —"

Kara almost choked on the piece of bacon she'd just put in her mouth. "You _better not_ —"

Alex took a sip of orange juice to hide her expression, but Kara could see her smiling impishly.

"What's this about James?" Eliza asked, a knowing look on her face.

"Kara has a crush on James, and James has a crush on Kara—" Alex dodged the piece of pancake that came flying toward her. "—and I'm trying to figure out how to get them together."

"Oh, is that all? I thought they'd never figure it out," Eliza laughed.

"I am _right here_ ," Kara grumbled, tearing off another piece of pancake and holding it up threateningly.

"You think you can scare a SHIELD agent with a pancake?" Alex said with exaggerated bravado.

"I went through Avenger Games training; I can make a weapon out of _anything_ ," Kara replied before popping the pancake chunk in her mouth. "And I share a room with you and have access to Jeremiah's shaving cream." She raised one eyebrow at Alex.

Alex raised her hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. But you better hurry and make something happen, because if you don't, I _will_ get involved."

Kara groaned and threw another piece of pancake at Alex. Alex made to tear off a chunk of her own pancake, but Jeremiah held up his hands, laughing gently.

"All right, all right. We don't have Tahiti facilities here, so let's not kill each other right now."

"Fine." Both girls picked up their forks and resumed eating, smirking at one another across the table.


	73. Chapter 73: Lab Partners

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We thought we'd check in with the Science Bros this time around. We only have two more weeks of "main" storyline chapters before we start posting epilogues for all the characters. Can you believe it?**

 **Also... WOW! THANK YOU for all the marathon reviews! Slim Summers2002, Practically an Avenger, TRV, and our writers... wow! We LOVE hearing from you, and I gotta say... seeing your reactions come in is totally fueling us as we head toward the finish line!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy-Three - Lab Partners**

 **Tony Stark, Formerly of District Three**

 **Stark Industries, District Three**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl & Miran Anders**

* * *

" _We rise by lifting others." - Unknown_

* * *

Not only had it been years since Tony had been back _home_ , but it was the first time he'd been back after dealing with a mountain of paperwork that a battalion of lawyers had sat him down to deal with over the fallout of his father having _died_ while Tony was supposedly dead. Since technically, Tony _was_ dead … it was a legal disaster.

The whole of Stark Industries had transferred to Obadiah Stane on Howard Stark's death, and though Tony had been pretty sure it was irretrievable when he first heard about it, he hadn't counted on SHIELD using their own lawyers to try and halt that particular attack. And by the time ol' Obie _died_ … it was a much simpler affair to prove that Tony was who he said he was. The lawyers did their thing, and the board transfered all of Stark Industries' interests back to their golden boy.

Not that everyone _knew_ Tony was the golden boy. His father had co-opted many of Tony's designs and used them in the company, and Tony never did know if Howard had put his name on the patents or not … Though none of that really mattered now. Not when Tony was stepping into his father's shoes and taking over SI.

At least he wasn't doing it alone.

Tony hadn't expected his stay in District Seven to go as calmly and coolly as it did, but despite the history from the Games between him and Logan, the Howlett Estate and its staff had been incredibly warm and welcoming. He also didn't expect the few outbursts he'd had when he was pushing to be _heard_ by the higher ups at SHIELD to have been so openly _listened_ to. Not only by the SHIELD agents he'd verbally attacked but by Logan too.

That … Tony still couldn't understand that. But the guy was getting stuff done, and he'd given Tony and Bruce carte blanche to do whatever they wanted while they were in Seven all tucked away in the Howlett Estate.

So as the coup wound down, Tony and Bruce decided that it was high time they took their traveling show _out_ of SHIELD's control and went to the best development labs in all of Marvel. And those were housed at Stark Industries. Tony didn't even need to file an official request — just a casual mention at a meeting when the coffee was starting to go around was enough for Logan to tell him to take whatever equipment and personnel he needed to get set up back home, with the stipulation that both scientists kept a panic button on them and kept a comm in case of emergencies.

But … all that was in the past now. And Tony was finally _home._

As he looked out at the labs, Bruce came to stand next to him for a moment, and with a cocky smile, Tony gestured to the building as they walked to it. "Didn't I promise you the lab of your dreams, Banner?"

"Not in those words," Bruce said with a grin as they walked into the glass-faced, sprawling building. "In fact, I'm pretty sure it was something more like 'There's a lab back home we can probably use'." They shared a smirk before Bruce went on. "And you don't have to remind me every time we get here that this incredible space is yours."

"It's yours too, buddy," Tony said as he clapped a hand on Bruce's shoulder. "Yours too."

Banner chuckled. "I'm happy to just be a squatter, thanks."

They were walking down the hallway to Bruce's lab when Tony tapped him lightly on the chest with the back of his hand. "Hey, how's your little green girl? I heard Cassie brought her over yesterday to check the space out."

"She's doing fine. Getting used to the new space."

"Did she miss you?"

Bruce laughed quietly. "Probably not as much as I missed her." He glanced at his friend. "You gonna say hi?"

"Damn right."

"It's pretty funny, with Cassie going on nearly every day about how we should try breeding."

They turned the corner and walked into the spacious, sleek area that Tony had designated as _Banner Manor_. It wasn't lost on Bruce that it was second only to Tony's own workspace. Although, frankly, wherever Tony was became Tony's workspace. They walked over to the far wall, where reinforced windows gave them a beautiful, natural view, and where, coincidentally, Cassie was standing near a large tank. She beamed when she turned and saw them. "Hi, guys! Just in time for lunch!"

They gathered around the tank where a turtle was waiting somewhat patiently for her meal. Tony waved a finger at her. "Hey, Cas. Whassup, Sup?" He reached into his pocket, and Cassie stopped him.

"No. No snack food."

"Why?"

"Because."

"Are you really worried about spoiling the turtle?" Tony asked. "Because I thought it might do her good to live in relative luxury. For a turtle."

"She … has a delicate system," Cassie said. "And she's had a lot of moving around. I don't want to stress her out anymore than she already _is_. And she _just_ got here. Let her acclimate before you start that."

"Fine, fine," Tony said, holding both hands up before he looked at Bruce. "Hey, where's your other green girl?"

Bruce glanced at the clock. "She's coming by later; we're going to grab dinner."

"Yeah, I bet that's _all_ you'll be grabbing. You two are—"

"Hey!" Bruce cut him off. "Not in front of the… ah… turtle." The three of them laughed while Bruce did his best not to blush. "I've got to finish up some calculations with Cho before she gets here."

Cassie nodded in turn. "And I've got to check on Cho's water system; he's got some kind of a filter problem. See you guys later!"

And, of course, the second Cassie's back was turned, Tony was sure to slip a few strawberries into Supper's tank, holding one finger over his lips as Bruce smirked crookedly.

"She'll get you, Tony."

"Can't prove anything," Tony replied, turning on his heel to leave Bruce to deal with Cassie when she inevitably found that Supper's strict diet had been compromised.

* * *

Of course, Bruce wasn't the only one that had come to Three to continue their good work. Hank Pym from Seven, and Janet Van Dyne, who had originally been from Three, were working side by side on something that Jan swore was mind boggling. Cassie Lang, originally from Twelve, was among a handful of others — the Tanaka brothers, Miles Morales, Amadeus Cho … essentially every bright young scientific mind that _didn't_ want to work for SHIELD -— who had come to join Tony and his offer of an independent laboratory to work on what they _wanted_ to.

Which was great, because all of them started off in their _own_ sections of the labs, and it wasn't long before Tony was flitting from one to the next, offering help and suggestions to everyone as they worked, making sure they didn't need or want for anything as they were busy creating. Which also meant, of course, that he knew who already had data that someone else might need, making everything more efficient.

After all, this was the culmination of everything that Tony had hoped Stark Industries could become now that district lines were a thing of the past and Thanos's strict controls were gone. All of the greatest young, forward-thinking minds of Marvel were in one place, under one roof — all of them free to create and discover _whatever_ it was their little hearts desired. And it was immensely satisfying.

And though Tony certainly gave preference, he truly felt that Bruce was just the tip of the iceberg. His genius had clearly been overlooked in Six, even if he and Cho had been in their academy. And Miles Morales from Eight had been blessed with the Math and Science school that Osborn had funded — but even with the meager backing, their _allowed_ focus had been unbelievably narrow. Tony didn't even want to think about what it had been like for minds like Hank Pym stuck in the backwoods of _Seven_ his whole life with nothing but forestry sciences to look forward to.

This revolution really was the best possible outcome for everyone. And the _potential_ of what they could all create together …

Well, it had Tony on a high like he couldn't ever remember finding anywhere else. And he didn't plan on letting it go anytime soon.

* * *

The group had been working happily for several weeks, and Tony himself was working on a new heads up display. He was considering the best way to incorporate it into the weapons system he was tinkering with when he overheard a conversation in a different section of the lab as the music switched from one playlist to the next. Normally, he wouldn't have heard it — even with the volume of the music low — but if nothing else, he managed to catch it just because the _tone_ of it was so different than what he usually heard.

"For God's sake, Hank," Janet was saying from Hank's workstation. "I thought you said you weren't going to work late. You're so distracted and hard to live with if you're in the lab for too long. Come on, let's take a break — we can go to that little bagel place you like a few blocks down!"

"To be honest, I think I'm going to stay here _late_ tonight. I want to get this finished."

"The war is winding down; nothing here is pressing," Jan said in a pleading tone before shifting to one that was clearly uplifting. "C'mon, Hank! You're _amazing_ , and you _have been_ through this whole war! You've been brilliant and really, really _brave!_ "

"Don't patronize me, Jan. _God,_ why do you always do that when you know it drives me nuts?" Hank's tone was harsher than Tony was accustomed to hearing, and he found himself frowning at the circuit board in front of him, unable to tune out the conversation even as the music started up again.

Janet let out a breath in a woosh, shifting from anxiously hopeful to fishing for a compliment. "But I dressed up for us to take a walk. Do you like it?" Janet asked, doing a spin for him.

"Do _I_ like it? Just tell me: are the push up bra and high heels for my benefit or Tony Stark's?"

There was a beat of silence, and Tony was frozen on hearing the cold indifference in Hank's tone. But clearly, he wasn't the only one hit by that. "Please don't be horrible," Janet said, her voice small.

"What do you expect, Jan?" Hank said.

"I expect you to _notice_ me — and not only when I'm dressed nicely, either!" Jan replied with some real heat. "I'm _just as smart_ as you or anyone else in this lab, _Hank_. And you don't even _see_ it unless it's something you can use!"

It all happened very quickly from there — an crack echoed the lab, followed by a crashing sound as Janet stumbled sideways into her workbench and then dropped to the ground.

"Oh my God, Jan … I … I'm sorry," Hank stuttered out, just a little too late.

Tony didn't even realize he was running that way until he was already pulling Jan up off the floor. "You alright? Come on, how about you take a seat, huh?" Tony asked Jan, barely registering it as he saw Banner pushing Hank away. He was too concerned with Jan, who was for the most part stunned and shaken, covering one eye and already in tears.

"Get away from her!" Hank shouted, ignoring the fact that Bruce was pushing him back.

" _Shut up, Pym_. Shut up before I do something we'll both regret," Bruce said through clenched teeth.

Tony glanced up at the tone of Bruce's voice. He'd heard it before. "Bruce—"

But Hank obviously wasn't as quick on the uptake. "Get your hands off me, Banner. This is none of your business. Touch me and I'll beat the—"

Tony winced as he heard the dull thud followed by a sharp crack. When he opened his eyes, Hank was bent over, holding his face. Then, he heard Bruce's voice, darker than usual.

"I don't think so, Pym. I don't think men like you can hurt anything except a woman who loves you." Bruce clenched his fists together and lifted them over his head.

Tony called to him sharply but softly. "Hey, hey, hey — Bruce. Buddy. Don't be him. Come on; you're better than that."

For a long moment, Bruce stood there, his arms trembling with the force of _not_ bringing his fists down like an executioner's axe on the back of Hank's neck. Slowly, he lowered them, his inhalation shaky. Leaning over, he whispered in Hank's ear, " _Bastard_. If I ever see you lift a hand in anger to anyone, _ever…_ I will put you down like the dog you are."

Tony's eyebrows lifted as he held Jan, who had finally let her shoulders drop for a good cry. _And he would, too. Lucky I was here, Pym,_ Tony thought as he watched Bruce hulking over Hank. "Alright, show's over," Tony said at a slightly louder volume than his normal speaking voice. There was no reason to shout when everyone in the combined area was silent and watching. "Cassie," Tony said, more quietly, when he saw her peeking around the corner. "Think you can take Jan to get cleaned up a little bit?"

"Sure thing," Cassie said, slipping over quickly to skirt around the little group and gently redirect Jan away from the three young men.

Tony waited until he knew the doors were closed and most of the rest of the lab had gone back to work. "That's it; you're done here," he said to Hank. "Clear your station out, hand over your badge and just … go. You're not welcome in this building anymore, Pym."

"You can't just _throw me out_ ," Hank said, regaining some of his fire, though he looked wary of Bruce, who still had his hands clenched tightly, the expression in his eyes _daring_ him to make a move.

"Actually, I can," Tony said. "I'll have your notes and projects packaged up for you, but right now, you need to leave."

Hank's face twisted into a look of rage, but he took a few steps back when Bruce tipped his head and squared off, stepping into his space. "Fine," Hank said low. "I didn't want to be one of your little errand boys anyhow. This place would just _hold me back_!"

Tony watched him go, spewing vitriol on his way out, though security stepped in before he could get too out of hand. In spite of what was going on with Jan, this was, as far as SI was concerned, a serious setback. But … in another way, it was an honest relief. Hank had been the brains behind the Ultron robot that had nearly killed him, after all. And where Hank had created a monster, Bruce — and Logan and Steve — had saved him from it.

Which was a nice, tidy little circle to Bruce once again saving the lab from the trouble Hank Pym brought with him.

"You okay?" Bruce said finally, almost embarrassed after his display of brute force. "I lost my temper.… Damn. I could have—"

"No, no," Tony said, resting his hand on Bruce's arm. "You didn't. You stopped yourself. We're good. It's good. Really." He gave his friend a grin, teasing him to lighten the mood. "I mean, given your background… I'm kind of impressed that you stopped."

Bruce's smile in return was nearly a grimace. He seemed glad to focus on something else when Cassie walked back in and started to box up Hank's workstation. "Hey, leave that for now, Cas," Bruce said. "I'll take care of it. No telling what kind of trouble his Pym particles could cause. No one should be handling anything on that desk without proper equipment."

Cassie stepped back, though she unconsciously rubbed her hands on her pant legs. "Oh, okay, I just … thought it might help…."

"Jan will probably want a chance to sort out her work from his," Tony said. "No one touches it until she's had a say, alright?" He looked around the rest of the lab. "Great. Sorry for the interruption, everyone. If you have any problems or questions — or if you were working on anything concurrently with Hank Pym — come find me, and we'll work something out."

A murmur rumbled through the lab, and within a few moments, Tony and Bruce shared a look and went on their separate ways — Bruce to his workstation and Tony to check on Jan.

When he found her, she was holding an ice pack to her eye. Her shoulders were slouched, and she had a run in her nylons that went from her knee all the way down to her ankle. On seeing him, she deflated further. "This is so embarrassing," she said quietly.

"I don't see how it's a reflection on you," Tony said earnestly.

"I just don't know what to do now," Jan said, her voice still small. "I didn't expect him to _hit_ me … and I know I can't … I can't go back to him, right?"

Tony looked stunned as he thought of the way Bruce had almost lost his temper entirely — and how regretful Hank had looked. He knew Hank had to have felt horrible, but it just seemed so hollow when paired with his erratic behavior otherwise and how quickly he'd jumped back and forth between rage and regret. But Tony also couldn't get the picture of his father out of his head when he was drunk — which had been most of the time, in Tony's experience. And how hard Tony had tried to earn his approval, with no results, no matter what he'd done _right_. But at least he understood where she was coming from.

"It's really not the smartest move," Tony agreed. "I hope you don't go back into that again. You're too smart for that. And it's not your job to fix him, you know?"

"It kind of is," Jan said miserably.

"Still doesn't mean you have to let him hit you," Tony said, before he held up one hand. "I'm not … listen. I get it. My dad was the same way. Never seemed to see what I was doing right. That's on him."

"No, I know," Jan said. "But I promised to stick with him, so… he's just like this when he's tired. It's not _him_."

Tony nodded at that, staring at his hands. "Then that's something _he_ needs to fix — or at least find out if he's willing to fix it — _before_ you decide, isn't it?"

"Yeah." Jan let out all her breath. "Yeah, I know."

He watched her expression fall and changed the subject before she started crying. "Hey. There's an apartment over the lab I use sometimes. You're welcome to it so you can think without everyone telling you what _they_ think you should do," Tony offered.

Jan nodded, then started to smile. "Everyone's going to say it's a sneaky way to get me in your bed, you know."

"What fun is that if I'm not there too?" Tony shot back.

Jan smiled a little more at that before she pulled Tony over to hug him. "I'm sorry about this. I really am."

"Nope. Not your fault at all," Tony said.

"He's never _hit_ — if I'd known—"

"If you'd known, you'd have put him on the ground first," Tony said, though his expression shifted to a more teasing one. "I've seen you in action. That was a sneak attack if ever there was one."

"Only way anyone could win against me, and we all know it," Jan said with a smirk.

Tony nodded at that and then reached into his pocket to hand her a passcard. "I'm serious. The place is yours for as long as you like. Take tonight anyhow. If you're up for it, I was going to order in before I head out. I can have something brought up for you."

"You're really something else, you know that, Tony?" Jan said before she hugged him again.

"Hey. We gotta take care of each other, right? That's what this whole … whatever is supposed to be about," Tony said.

Jan smiled and held out her hand. "Then here's to the whatever."


	74. Chapter 74: Transitioning

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! As you can tell, we're starting to wind down the story, so we thought we'd bring you a look at the direction of the leadership in these crazy times.**

 **Thank you as always to our writers who reviewed this latest chapter and previous chapters. Every single writer in this project has poured in so much, so we love when every chapter gets the love it deserves! Thanks also to Practically an Avenger (our showrunners are comics nerds, so ... Hank had to go, and we're glad you agree) and to Slim Summers2002 (Bruce taking down Hank was definitely a highlight!) for being AMAZING support, too!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy-Four - Transitioning**

 **Margaret Carter, Charles Xavier, and Phil Coulson**

 **Howlett Estate, District Seven**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Effective leadership is not about making speeches or being liked; leadership is defined by results not attributes." -_ Peter Drucker

* * *

 **Margaret 'Peggy' Carter**

 **Formerly of District Five**

* * *

It was a relief, frankly, to see Steve back with his best friend, though the intensive sessions with Charles Xavier and Bucky seemed to take up most of Steve's day — not that Peggy minded terribly much. She had her own affairs to be concerned with. Particularly since she rather _enjoyed_ getting more involved in the plotting and planning side of SHIELD. She liked having real, live information in front of her so she could understand their strategies and make sure they weren't driving themselves off a cliff.

It was all a bit of a shock, really. While Steve had been helping to bring his adoptive brother back into his own mind, Peggy had simply started showing up at whatever meetings were going on at the Howlett Estate. Though after one in particular, she had walked away in a daze.

* * *

 _Peggy had really only gone to the one meeting before the big push had started to take out Hydra, and though she was involved with the intricate details on SHIELD's taking of District Five, she had been drifting as she waited for something of note to happen that she could help with. She'd felt entirely at a disadvantage when she had nothing to contribute, so after that first meeting she'd invited herself into, she decided that she'd had quite enough. She was reasonably sure that the director hadn't simply placated her by letting her in last time, but she was going to hold his feet to the fire and see if he would let her help outside of her "niche."_

 _The meeting with the SHIELD heads, victors, and the assorted few others Logan had added to the board was already underway when Peggy quietly opened the door and slipped inside, though her entrance was not unnoticed. Most of the SHIELD personnel turned to watch as she held her head high and confidently made her way closer to where Agent Skye was seated with the director._

" _I'm sorry, but this is a closed meeting," Maria Hill said. "Last time was an exception only because you knew valuable intel about your home district that wasn't available via our normal means. This meeting is for the SHIELD board only, Miss Carter."_

 _The bulk of those around the meeting table simply watched, waiting for her to leave, and finally, Peggy drew in a breath as she tried to keep from saying something she'd regret later._

" _We can let you know when you're allowed in again," one of the agents that Peggy hadn't met yet said, though she wasn't sure if she liked the look of the man._

" _I want her opinion," Logan said, meeting Peggy's gaze for just an instant before he shifted his focus to Maria Hill. "We'd still be kickin' dirt in Five waiting for an opening if it hadn't been for her."_

" _That's what I said," Hill said evenly. "Valuable intel. Now, this is more than just staging for one district."_

 _Logan shook his head. "She's proven that she's good with strategy_ and _tactics."_

" _Logan, you can't just keep pulling in anyone you think might be useful. First Stark, then Banner_ — _now Carter," Hill argued. "I know you're not SHIELD-trained, but there_ was _, in fact, a reason for the secrets we kept. Security clearance has a_ purpose _."_

" _You're saying you want to keep it board-only," Logan said, looking irritated. "Unless_ you _think they have more to give you than what you have."_

" _I'm saying we're finally wrapping up a decades-long period of war and crisis, and we can't just let random people in off the street decide the fate of the country!" Hill said. "Everyone here has a_ reason _to be here."_

 _Logan let out a breath slowly. "You're right," he said, though he hadn't blinked as he held Hill's gaze. "Carter, you're my new assistant director."_

" _Very funny," Hill said dryly, crossing her arms over her chest._

" _Oh, I'm dead serious," Logan said, still not blinking. "I'm sure you've run security clearances on her already. Is she clean, Agent Skye?"_

 _Skye did a quick double-take and looked over at Peggy wide-eyed. "Aside from the incident with the stapler? She's spotless, Director," Skye said, which had Peggy watching Logan closer as he continued to hold Hill's glare._

" _There's a difference between being clean and being qualified!" Hill sputtered._

" _Yeah?" Logan said. "You wanna tell me what qualified me to be here?"_

" _You'd have to ask Director Fury," she shot back with her eyes narrowed._

" _I did. Told me it was in the cube. I've been through it more times than I care to think about and still missed the memo." Logan turned to Peggy. "Job's yours if you want it, Carter."_

 _Peggy straightened up slightly and walked toward him with her head high, though watching his bodyguard try to keep from laughing as she hid behind her computer did not help Peggy to keep her composure in check. "Only if you're truly not joking_ — _in which case, I'd be delighted."_

" _Perfect," Logan said, still holding Hill's furious gaze. "I think it's long overdue for SHIELD to get some new blood with a different outlook." As he turned Peggy's way to offer his hand to shake, Peggy gave him a little smile that widened only when the handshake was over and he'd turned back to the task at hand, sliding his tablet to her as he pulled the laptop Agent Skye was working on closer._

* * *

To Peggy's utter amusement, Logan had indeed been serious, and he was sure that he kept her almost as close to the new intel as his little bodyguard who was gathering everything for him to begin with. She hadn't expected him to be so open-minded, but it was a pleasant discovery all the same.

And now, she found herself in a meeting of the highest caliber.

She loved it.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to discuss how we're going to announce the move forward," Maria Hill had said once everyone was up to date on the information at hand. When Logan looked like he was already prepared to argue, Hill held up one hand to signal for him to wait, which he did — another mark of his unexpected respect for the fairer sex. "Just this once, hear me out, Logan. All sources show that we've pushed Hydra back to a level of minimal interference. Their deep pockets have backed away from the losing fight, their strongest voices have been silenced, and any chance of recruiting openly to the public has proven to be less than fruitful — not only from the results of the battles and the truth-telling campaign you ordered but from other sources."

"In large part, it's been the outreaches we've been using. The diplomacy from our former victors in their home districts has been _very_ helpful in garnering public support for what SHIELD is trying to do," Agent Quartermain added before he turned toward Hill. "But I'd still be cautious about saying the war is over. It's not quite done yet."

"If it lasts for less than a year, does it qualify as a war?" Peggy asked. "This was more a coup, I think."

"As usual, you're right," Logan said toward Peggy, though his focus was on the tablet in front of him. "For now, anyway."

"Yes, well, semantics aside," Hill said, letting out a breath, already weary that Logan and Peggy had been teaming up, "we need to decide how we're going to announce the transition."

That wasn't a new argument. All of the victors and leadership from every district that was now considered "free" had thrown in their two cents, and across the board, they were in agreement with the basic framework. What the group was arguing about _today_ was how to present it to the public at large.

Hill was of course suggesting a public awareness campaign via television and flyers — classic propaganda work — which, Peggy had to admit, would get the word out. And naturally, SHIELD wanted to use the victors to advertise as much. But that didn't feel complete enough.

As the other SHIELD heads talked, Peggy read over their plans and then turned to Logan. "It should be _you_ that takes this to the public, you know."

"Come again?" Logan said, turning her way.

"I said," Peggy repeated a bit louder for the whole of the room to hear, "it needs to be you, _Director_. You need to step into the spotlight and use your position and your popularity to get the word out. The bulk of the people in this country are positively _hungry_ to hear what you have to say."

"Not sure if you caught half the crap that happened in the Capitol, but I'm not really the best person to talk on camera," Logan said. "No one wants to see that."

"On the contrary," Coulson said. "It was your impromptu interviews that they kept playing over and over. And it wasn't just because it made for good ratings and people spending more money. They were calling in _demanding_ more."

"And so far, you are the only director that wasn't given a parade on taking the position. We haven't been able to make an official declaration of who is actually in charge," Agent Brand said in a clipped tone.

"They've got a point," Hill said, her tone and body language matter-of-fact. "The rumors have gone wild. Some of our troops have already leaked privately recorded footage of you on the battlefield fighting alongside them or helping them. It's common knowledge in SHIELD, and it's a very strong rumor across the board, but we really should show the rest of the country that this isn't a large-scale showing of the Games all over again. We don't want anyone to think we're only using you for your name; they need to know you really are in charge."

"What do you propose?" Logan asked, every word terse and perfectly annunciated — a little tell that Peggy had already picked up that spoke volumes as to how irritated Logan really was.

"An announcement," Hill said reasonably. "It could be a pre-recorded interview or even a televised press conference where you come out and tell the country yourself where we stand and what the plan is moving forward."

"It could be a rally; we'll have all the hopeful candidates show up so they can announce their intention to run — _after_ you let it be known that SHIELD has no plans to continue running things," Coulson added.

It was clear that Logan wasn't excited or even very open to that proposal, though, so before it could be entirely shot down or before they could _try_ to railroad him into it (which would only result in an announcement from Logan _never happening_ ), Peggy rose to her feet and rested one hand on Logan's arm. "Hold that thought, please, Agent Coulson," she said with a tight smile to the SHIELD personnel around them. "I believe a quick conference is in order."

Peggy only waited long enough to be sure that Logan was following her into the next room before she started to march off, leaving the rest of the board watching as they stepped out. She closed the door behind her and spun on her heel to face him. "As much as the press and the troops are playing up your support, the rumors are swirling almost as freely that you died in the fight."

"Fine by me," Logan muttered, and Peggy rolled her eyes at his reaction.

"They're not going to follow anything that SHIELD lays out unless you show your _face_ and speak for yourself," she said. "And after the work _everyone_ has done to get this far, I'll _not_ have you throw it all away over a bit of _stagefright_."

"It's not stagefright," Logan said, giving her a dry look.

"Then what is it?" Peggy asked, arms crossed, at a loss as to why he was insisting on staying behind the scenes. " _Honestly_ , Logan. When they didn't want you to say anything, you were all but spitting in Thanos' face. Is that what it is? You need to be told _not_ to do something?"

"That's not it and you know it."

For a short moment, Peggy simply frowned at him, but she quickly blinked out of her thoughts, her eyes narrowed as she crossed her arms and jutted her chin out. "How is it possible that you still don't know your own worth? I swear, you must have the _worst_ possible outlook on yourself of anyone in the country — which is impressive when paired with how insistent you are that no one can best you." She squared her shoulders to him. "You've been working yourself to death fixing the mess that SHIELD made. You deserve the credit, so stand up and take it. I don't think I'll be able to stomach it if Maria Hill steps in after the war is over"

"Alright," Logan said with a little smirk, surprising Peggy into stopping her rant.

"That's it? You're just going to agree with me just like that?" Peggy said, looking almost frustrated.

"Don't I usually agree with you?" Logan challenged as he headed for the door, with Peggy quick to catch up.

"Yes, well, it's still something that takes a bit of getting used to, if I'm being frank."

"Get used to it faster," Logan said, seeming to regain his usual presence of 'resident tough guy'. "I've got no plans to let Hill step in."

"I'd assumed as much when you decided to make me your AD on a whim."

"Wasn't a whim. I heard all about you from Steve, and I know the level of trouble you were causin' for Hydra in Five," Logan said as they made their way back to the meeting, then once they were back in the conference room, he turned his attention to the room at large and addressed them as he made his way back over to Skye. "Make the arrangements for your … thing," Logan said. "Whatever it is that you think'll have the best response. Peggy and I will be there to make the announcement."

Peggy almost stumbled — since she hadn't heard a whisper of an indication that _she_ would be part of the announcement too — staring at Logan for an instant before she regained her business-like expression. She couldn't be sure that she'd completely pulled off the impression that she had expected with that announcement — especially not when Clay Quartermain was smirking at her the way he was. Though he thankfully didn't say anything about it.

"For however long it takes to make the transition, the country deserves to meet their second in command, too, don't you think, AD Carter?" Logan asked with a twinkle of trouble dancing in his gaze.

Peggy shook her head at him, still smiling. This partnership would take some getting used to, but she definitely liked it.

* * *

 **Charles Xavier, Third Victor of the Avenger Games**

 **Formerly of District Ten**

* * *

"Ah, there you are, Charles," Erik said with a warm smile, his tone illustrating exactly how pleased he was with the world around them. "I was hoping you weren't too busy with other matters to discuss our plans."

"We haven't decided on any plans, old friend," Charles said with a smile. He was busy lately, trying to help the children left with scars from the war to regain their minds and their confidence, but Erik had managed to catch him in a rare moment of quiet.

Not that Charles was under the delusion that Erik's timing was accidental.

"No, but it's high time we did," Erik said as he took a seat across from Charles, looking almost business-like if not for the spark of excitement in his gaze. "It's been quite some time since we sat down to have a chat."

"Yes, I was sure I wouldn't see you until we had a moment for chess."

"I believe we've moved past simple chess games."

Charles paused and tipped his head slightly. "Then what sort of game are you playing today, Erik?"

"You've been to all the same meetings I have, likely a good deal more, as I've been out to see the front lines," Erik said. "We're launching a new government, Charles. And I think that you and I would be wise to see that we were part of it."

"You want to run for the presidential spot," Charles said as he folded his hands on his lap. He really should have expected this from Erik. He'd always been ambitious to a fault, and the prospect of actually being able to get the power that he'd dreamed of his whole life was clearly too much to pass up.

"No," Erik said, then paused with a crooked sort of smile. "Well, yes, but I know better than to attempt that. I don't think I'm the right person for that particular position right now."

Charles was clearly surprised and shifted in his chair to face Erik better, true interest in his every movement. "Oh? Then what are you proposing, Erik?"

"I'd like _you_ to run for the presidential spot, and I'd like to run _with_ you as your second in command." Charles couldn't hide his stunned expression as Erik continued on. "We already know there will be competition, but I truly believe that right now, at this point in time, _you_ would be the wiser choice to take the helm, so to speak."

"Erik—"

"Considering the climate, your outlook of working together seems more in line with what's already been _working_ ," Erik said. "Your mark on Logan is easily discernible, old friend. Clearly, he took your chats to heart, even if it didn't seem like it at the time."

"Yes, well.…" Charles let out a breath. "Are you _sure_ this is what you'd like?"

"As sure as I breathe," Erik said. "And the country will know that, with me alongside you, nothing like Thanos' reign will ever be allowed to happen again."

Charles thought it over for a long time before he even thought of responding. "There's much work to be done, if we're to try and win."

"Then you're agreeable to the idea?"

Charles smiled up at him as he took Erik's hand in both of his. "I can't think of anyone I'd rather run alongside."

Erik's entire face lit up at that, and after a moment, he rose to his feet. "Then I think we should register our intent with your young friend."

"He won't be able to give us any backing, Erik."

"No, of course not," Erik said with a scoff. "That would look as if SHIELD were trying to choose the direction of the country. No, we can't have that."

Charles relaxed and nodded his head. As long as Erik wasn't expecting Logan to back them up, then the two of them could actually make a solid effort to see Charles' dream of peace come to fruition.

And, to be honest, he couldn't think of anyone else that he would trust to back him up when it came down to it.

* * *

 **Special Agent Phil Coulson**

* * *

Things were shaping up surprisingly well.

Coulson was relieved, of course, that things weren't falling apart — he'd been a little worried several times there, considering Fury's sudden departure and Viper's obsession and, well, all of it — but he couldn't help being pleasantly surprised that his job was now mostly _clean-up_.

This was what he'd always wanted to do when he signed up with SHIELD. Helping people and making a difference and actually _changing_ the status quo.

The kids were something else, too. He'd always known they would be, of course, or he would have walked out of SHIELD as soon as Fury started the Tahiti program. Those kids deserved a second chance at life, and they deserved to show the world what they were made of. Every single one of them had been ready for more than life under Thanos was able to give them.

He only wished the cost hadn't been so high for so many of them.

It wasn't just the victors or the Tahiti kids. He could see it in the wear and tear of his own people. Hill was irritable when things hadn't gone to plan. Fitzsimmons were spending more time in quiet conversation and less time in their cheerful back-and-forth. Even Skye seemed more serious, though on the other hand, she'd managed to make out better than he'd expected her to in all this.

He wasn't going to pretend he didn't know what was going on with Skye and Logan behind closed doors.

Still, Skye seemed happy — and Logan had taken a noticeable turn for the better. So Coulson was simply keeping an eye on _that_ particular situation just in case. Director or no, Coulson was going to keep his team safe, after all.

But since he hadn't had cause to threaten Logan's life — yet — Coulson was standing back and letting the next generation take the lead. Like they were _supposed_ to.

It was almost bittersweet, Coulson had to admit. This was exactly what he and the others, the ones who started SHIELD, had talked about the whole time they'd been making their plans. And most of them were dead now — Fury included.

 _Wish you could see them now, Nick,_ he thought to himself, absently staring at the SHIELD logo on the screen of his laptop. _They're better than you hoped they'd be. I think you'd be surprised by what they've done._

But that was the best part about this program. Once these kids got rolling, they built their own revolution, far surpassing SHIELD itself and all their best-laid plans.

And Coulson couldn't have been prouder.


	75. Chapter 75: Stepping Into the Light

**(A/N): Happy Friday! Can you believe that a week from now, we'll be putting up the last "main" chapter and starting the epilogues after that? What a crazy, fun ride it's been!**

 **Thank you as always to our writers who reviewed, especially for the marathon reviews. We love those! Thanks to Slim Summers2002 for rocking the reviews as always, and thanks to Practically an Avenger for not only being a great reviewer but doing your research! We love that we've inspired you to read up on the character we so deeply care about!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy-Five - Stepping Into The Light**

 **The Capitol**

 **James 'Logan' Howlett**

 **SHIELD Director, 24th Avenger Games Victor**

* * *

" _There is surely nothing other than the single purpose of the present moment. A man's whole life is a succession of moment after moment. There will be nothing else to do, and nothing else to pursue. Live being true to the single purpose of the moment."_ ― Tsunetomo Yamamoto, Hagakure: The Book of the Samurai

* * *

"Would you _stop_?" Logan said as he pushed Jubilee's hand back. "This isn't like before."

"No, instead of prepping you for unwanted, handsy ' _dates'_ , I'm prepping you to inform the world that you're in charge," Jubilee said. "At least out there. _This is my job!_ "

"You're fired."

" 'll still look _rugged_ enough to be a fighter. Just not … platter ready," Jubilee said before she darted in and backed him against the podium Skye was using for her laptop, jostling it and getting a sound of protest from Skye.

"Easy, I need this tech," Skye said, which had Logan holding still for a widely grinning Jubilee as she worked on his hair and fiddled with his clothes.

"Yeah, and can you _not_ talk about that stuff so casually?" Kate said. She and the other former victors and tributes were all there, though Kate was staying behind the scenes. Logan wasn't going to force anyone onto the stage that didn't want to be there. "Aside from the fact that it's _him_ you're talking about, it's just gross."

"It totally is," Skye agreed, which at least had Kate's shoulders relaxing before she came over to look at what Skye was up to.

"You know," Jubilee said as she knocked Logan's hand out of her way, "it's not like I knew going into it what the deal was."

"That's true," Logan said. "She bawled like a baby when she was told what _I_ had to do."

"Oh, _shut up_ ," Jubilee said, looking incredibly red-faced. "That was just all so … wrong."

"No kidding," Skye answered, blatantly ignoring the look Logan was giving her as she pulled up camera feeds from around the area. "The place is _packed_ , guys. Everywhere is entirely filled with people."

Logan bristled and for the millionth time cursed Fury's name. This was well beyond any public speaking he had to do before.

"Have you peeked through the curtains?" Peter asked as he made his way over to where Kate was clearly amused at Jubilee fussing over Logan. Peter's eyes were wide, and he was wearing a look of sheer disbelief. "That crowd is _huge_."

"Thanks, Pete," Logan said as he tried to bat Jubilee's hand away when started to fiddle with his sideburns. "Don't want to know."

"Um. Yes, you do," Peter replied, gesturing over his shoulder at the big curtain blocking them from the crowd. "This is way bigger than anything we were in front of — and it was _summertime_ when we were here."

"The crowd is as big as it is because it's not _just_ the Capitol," Skye said calmly, from where she was sitting with her laptop. "People from around the country have been gathering up since we made it known that there was going to be a big announcement."

"And … we have to go out there?" Peter asked.

"No," Logan said, shaking his head. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to. Only ones that gotta go out there are the ones that signed up for it."

" _Laecherlich_ ," Kurt said as he stepped next to Kate and slipped his arm around her shoulders. "We came here to support you, and that's what we're doing."

"You're makin' a big deal over this," Logan grumbled.

"Again, _you need to see the crowd_ ," Peter said. "This _is_ a big deal."

"He's right," Skye said, earning a frown from Logan. "It's a _very_ big deal."

Jubilee reached up again, and Logan sidestepped her, though he couldn't quite escape. Particularly when he bumped into a gorgeous Capitolite. "She's only trying to tame it," a familiar voice said, and Logan spun on the spot only to break into a broad grin an instant before the purple-haired Capitolite smiled back just as widely and stepped in to wrap him up in a tight hug — that he returned.

Skye did a clear double-take as the hug continued, and she nearly dropped her laptop when Kate elbowed her hard with a _look_ that the rest of the old Games alliance was sharing. When the woman stepped back, she kept her hands on Logan's shoulders, and he didn't bother stepping away — and even kept one hand at her waist.

"She doesn't need your help, Betts," Logan said as Betsy Braddock laughed.

"No, but I thought I'd vote," she said. "First on your appearance, then for whoever isn't a serious risk."

"Cute," Logan said as he turned to the gathered group to introduce her to them. "This was the first Capitolite outside of Jubilee that gave me a shred of hope," he said after the quick introductions.

"Well, that makes you alright in my book," Kate said, her head tipped to the side. "I like the hair."

"It's a signature thing from my modeling days," Betsy told her with a troublemaking smile. "But I'm not going onto that stage," she clarified to the gathered friends. "I wanted to be close. Aside from supporting my brother, Brian, Agent Coulson said you might need an extra boost, _Director_."

"Fair," Logan said as he turned to hear what Coulson was saying to the crowd that had simmered down to near silence. Coulson was doing an excellent job explaining SHIELD's purposes in the war — and why they were stepping back — but anyone with ears (or eyes) could tell that the crowd was more interested in the next act than in Coulson, no matter how good he was at public speaking.

The group backstage was quiet as they made their last-minute fussing and waited for their cue to go out — and it was clear everyone was all nerves as Jubilee, Noh, and a handful of other stylists went down the line of victors and ex-tributes for adjustments, complete with a bit of commentary from Kate on Kurt's look that had him blushing pink. Kurt kept rolling his eyes at the fact that she was enjoying not going out on stage and instead giggling over the "eye candy" with Skye, who had her _own_ opinions, though Logan held her gaze and absolutely didn't blush.

"This won't take but a moment," Agent Simmons said with a broad grin as she and Agent Fitz came over to the now-dwindling group around Logan and Skye. "We just need to make sure you've got your earpiece in." The two scientists shared a look, and Simmons darted around Logan to set the battery pack in place. "It's really quite brilliant! Fitz designed it himself!"

"Of course it's brilliant," Fitz said, the two of them overlapping as they spoke. "It's just in case there's any trouble, of course. Which … I'm sure there won't be. Not with the people watching over you."

"Our counterforces are in place, and all checked in," Skye confirmed, which only had Simmons smiling wider as she patted Logan's arms. "The puns from Hawkeye are … about as good as they always are."

"See? Nothing to worry about," Simmons said from over Logan's shoulder, and he had to wonder what exactly was going on as Skye grinned brilliantly _past_ him to Simmons.

"No one will be able to see this either," Fitz said, stepping forward with a small earpiece. He reached up to set it for Logan, but Logan pulled back and took it from him, frowning at the invasion of space as he placed it in his ear. "Right. But it'll make it possible for Agent Skye here to tell you if anything looks sketchy."

"Got it," Logan said, frowning at Fitz as he reached over to pull Simmons next to him, smiling tightly.

" **The revolution would not have been possible without the bravery and selflessness that was shown by our ex-tributes and victors,"** Coulson was saying as the kids watched him center stage. " **These brave individuals worked alongside SHIELD and factions of determined freedom fighters from every district in the country, and they are continuing to work together in their efforts to rebuild Marvel better than it once was."** He turned toward the side of the stage with a nod, and a moment later, Hill was waving the victors backstage to go out.

As Sam Wilson and Bobbi Morse led the charge of victors, the crowd began to cheer, and tensions backstage grew. The truth was that there weren't too many victors _left_ , and when it was clear that no more victors were coming out after Peter Quill, Black Bolt, and the Four followed Hank McCoy, Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr, the enthusiasm of the crowd fell significantly. Murmurs were rising up all around them about the victors that were missing. Of course, everyone knew about the Red Skull and Viper, but … there were still _so many_ that were just _gone._

"We never publicized who died," Skye told the little group around her as Logan watched the feed over her shoulder with Kate, who had made it clear she wasn't ready to step out on stage when she still barely felt like herself on good days. "I don't think anyone could have guessed we'd lose half of you."

"That's war," Logan said as he turned his attention to the ex-tributes that were lined up and ready to go. It was well-organized, of course, and Logan couldn't help but shake his head as he watched Dick Grayson bounce on his toes in anticipation.

When the ex-tributes were announced as next out, the crowd woke up again — and the roar was substantial, even backstage. Dick was grinning widely as he walked, holding hands with Kory. Those that had been in Tahiti the longest were the first out, so they were led by Janet Van Dyne, Hank Pym, Luke Cage, and Cassie Lang. The roar only increased when those from the 24th Games came out before Dick led the charge for the _last_ group of tributes with Kory and his sister, clearly soaking it in.

"He's totally getting a charge out of this," Skye laughed, watching the feed on her monitor.

"He's just _built_ for the spotlight," Jubilee said affectionately, but by then, Coulson was calling for some form of order before Skye tapped Logan's arm and tipped her head to let him know he had to be ready to go out, since it was hard to _hear_ anything with all the crowd noise.

" **You're up,"** Skye said — though it came through the earpiece Logan was wearing — and a moment later, Peggy Carter rushed over, looking honestly wide-eyed at the crowd they were stepping into in a few short moments.

"You okay?" Logan asked Peggy, grateful to have someone to focus on that could use his little experience with _this_ part anyhow.

"I'm not the one they're waiting to hear make the speech," Peggy said. "I'll be fine."

"So you think," Logan deadpanned, and for a moment, the two of them shared a look before Peggy rolled her eyes and turned back to the stage. Though Logan couldn't hear it, he _knew_ she'd breathed out an 'honestly' as she turned away.

Coulson was still talking to the crowd, and Logan barely made out what he was saying over the cheering as he and Peggy waited at the edge of the stage. The crowd was rabid in all the ways SHIELD wanted them to be.

" **Aside from recognizing the heroes and the fallen from this rebellion, we're also** _ **confirming**_ **the rumors concerning our change of direction in leadership. I'm proud to introduce SHIELD's new Assistant Director,"** Coulson was saying, and Logan elbowed Peggy with a smirk as Steve turned to hold her gaze from on stage with a broad grin. " **She led one of the most successful freedom fighter contingencies in the country. A hero from the rebellion by all counts, Margaret Carter from District Five."**

Peggy barely stowed her grin as she tipped her chin up and stepped out onto the stage, carefully metering her steps until she was next to Coulson as he continued, with the crowd cheering and whistling her entry. " **Our new director had been hand-selected by Director Fury,"** Coulson said — earning a spattering of mixed reactions from the crowd. " **And I'm pleased to say that instead of following Fury's instructions, he has blazed a trail of his own making, changing our entire strategy on how this rebellion continued after the start."** Once again, the crowd's volume started to rumble, and Logan swore on hearing that Coulson was doing all he could to ensure Logan got full credit for his calls. " **Our new Director; former District Seven victor, Logan** —" To Logan's surprise, the roar crescendoed wildly, blocking out what Coulson was saying, even though Logan could see the man's mouth moving as he shouted into the microphone while Logan stepped out into the bright lights.

The force of the sound was palpable, and Logan glanced at the kids who had preceded him: the Titans, Kurt, and Peter stood in a tight group not far from Rogers and Stark, and all of them were grinning, though none so broadly as Dick. Onstage, beyond the kids and at the far end of the stage, stood the victors, all of them beaming and looking proud as Logan stepped up and shook Coulson's hand and stood at the podium with Peggy. The two of them shared a look, and Peggy did a fine job of controlling her reaction, though she was clearly pleased on being proven _so_ right.

Logan looked out across the crowd — a veritable sea of people, though unlike the last time he'd been in front of a cheering crowd, the garish colors and odd faces dyed all sorts of colors simply weren't there. Not in force anyhow. Now, the vibrantly tacky Capitolites were the exception to the rule rather than the ruling class.

He had no idea how to react to _this_ , and the crowd didn't ease up, leaving Logan glancing toward his two ex-tributes, who couldn't have been more different in that moment if they'd tried.

Helena was all grace and poise next to Dick's enthusiastic _basking_ in the cheers — and behind the tributes, the representatives from the districts began to trickle onto the stage. Dick was grinning widely and bouncing on the balls of his feet as Bruce Wayne gently rested a hand on his shoulder — not that it got Dick to settle down. For an instant, Logan caught Bruce's gaze. Bruce tipped his chin up slightly with a collected sort of approving expression on his face as if to say 'go on.'

Logan turned back to the crowd and held up his hand in a gesture to quiet down. To his surprise, it took a few moments for that to happen, but when it did, he could hear Skye's delighted snickering in his ear. He couldn't stop the smirk on hearing it either.

"Agent Coulson has already outlined today's new beginning," Logan said, though the first part of his statement was certainly lost in the crowd. "So let me start by assuring you that I don't want to rule over _anyone._ That's not why I'm here. I want to make it clear: I don't see any reason why we can't all live peacefully, side by side, regardless of what any individual thinks and believes. It's a matter of respect for others and holding yourself accountable for your _own_ actions, not placing blame on anyone. It's common sense, more than anything else. Treat people like you want to be treated, care for those that need help. Make the effort to be a better person. Always. It's a chance for everyone to take advantage of what a new start really means. A way to make use of your newfound freedom, equality, and individual rights. All of us — both those in SHIELD and the brave individuals that rose up on their own to fight — what we've all worked for since the revolution started is to _eliminate_ those that would take advantage of the weak or oppress those that threatened to enforce themselves as a ruling class. From today forward, Marvel will be _governed_ by the will of the people that make this country up."

He had to pause for a moment to reorganize his thoughts as the crowd surged again. _One point down,_ he thought to himself.

"Every district — and what was once the Capitol — has sent their _chosen_ representatives to speak to the country as a whole, but I want to make it clear: if you don't like the way that your district has chosen to align themselves, you are free to move to one that you can agree with. The days of fences and forced settlement is over, just like the lines of the districts have been erased. You are all free to travel between the old districts that make up the country, but before I go further, I'd like each district to speak for themselves."

Logan stepped to the side with Peggy and Coulson as the representatives made their designations known. Reed Richards from One, Bobbi Morse from Two, Shingen Yashida from Three, Maxwell Lord from Five, Thaddeus Ross from Six, Gwen Stacey from Eight, Pietro Maximoff from Nine, Hank McCoy from Ten, Blackagar Boltagon from Twelve, and Brian Braddock from the Capitol all grouped up and one by one stepped up to make it clear their respective districts' intentions were to remain part of Marvel proper — but they were quickly followed by the other three.

Bruce Wayne was the first to step forward, casually stepping up to the lone microphone at the podium to weigh in for District Seven. "The citizens of District Seven have chosen to go back to our historic roots from before Marvel existed. _Canada_ , as we'll be known once again, will remain as a sovereign country, though we will keep open borders and welcome those from other districts." He turned to Logan, and the two shared a nod before Bruce stepped back and Kaldur Ahm took his place to state the intentions for Four.

"The people of Four are united as one kingdom," Kaldur said. "What divides us no longer controls us. We stand with our allies in Marvel, but we stand apart, as our own people — the people of the sea." He looked out over the crowd and nodded. "We would not stop any who wished to join us, nor any visitors from other districts. The sea unites us, and we would not keep others from drawing power and inspiration from it." He spread his hands wide. "We draw power from our people, our beliefs. _Arcadia_ will stand for peace and harmony evermore."

When Kaldur returned to his place on the stage, Logan was surprised when Bobby Drake, one of the freedom fighters that had been staying at the estate, stepped forward and gave Kaldur's hand a little squeeze under cover of others milling around in front of them. He knew things had been tumultuous for Kaldur lately, but he didn't realize he and Bobby were getting _close._ But … for the public, the focus had already moved on to T'Challa, who had stepped forward to speak for Eleven.

"Wakanda will speak and stand up for itself, but we will not watch from the shadows should trouble fall on our allies. We will strive to be an example of how all of us are brothers and sisters on this earth," T'Challa said. "And though we choose to start something new in the wake of this revolution, it is my hope that now, more than ever, any illusions of division between all of our people be cast aside. Once, we allowed tyrants to use division to threaten our very existence, but we have all learned the truth: we share more that connects us than that which separates us." He looked over to Logan for a moment as he continued. "We must find a way to look after one another as if we were a single tribe."

As T'Challa stepped back, Coulson leaned over to tell Logan what the plan was, and a moment later, Logan and Peggy stepped back to the podium. "In a few short months, SHIELD will be overseeing the election of Marvel's next leader," Peggy said. "Currently, there are four pairs of candidates that have stepped forward to try and earn your vote. I would encourage you to carefully weigh your decision before casting your vote to elect them."

" **You have** _ **got**_ **to be kidding me,"** Skye said in Logan's ear, sounding livid, but Logan had no way to reach out and ask what the trouble was — and no time to do it — as the candidates began to step forward. " **Alright. You have to announce them. I'll help you out if you don't know who some of these bottom feeders are."**

 _Right,_ Logan thought to himself as he heard Kate chiming in from over Skye's shoulder.

" **You just wave if it's someone that needs an eye put out,"** Kate said, which at least got a smirk from Logan as the first pair stepped out from backstage. The crowd reacted before Logan could say anything, so he waited until the two women were next to the podium and Hill gave him a _look._

"Maria Hill and Karima Shapandar have both stepped down from their duties at SHIELD and will not be returning to their old posts regardless of the outcome of this election," Logan said as the two women did their best to look approachable to a spattering of applause. Then, because he didn't care for the next couple of people coming out, Logan simply announced them after Skye told him who the vice-presidential running mate was. "Former Capitolites and longtime _investors_ of the Games — Victor Von Doom and Morgan LeFay," he said, hardly breaking stride as Skye swore in his ear and the earpiece fuzzed out.

Logan turned and smirked as Erik Lensherr pushed Charles Xavier forward to get in line as Logan announced them as "our two oldest and most experienced victors, who have always found a way to be civil even when their views have clashed," though they didn't get to enjoy the roaring applause before the last candidates stepped out, waving as if the cheers were actually for them.

Logan narrowed his eyes and didn't bother to hide his distaste as Lex Luthor stepped up next to him and rested his hand on Logan's shoulder — just long enough for Logan to brush it off. But he hadn't expected Luthor to show up with _Selene Gallio_ as a running mate. Maybe he should have, but … Luthor hadn't told SHIELD who his running mate was, and by the curses that Skye was letting loose, no one knew until she showed up on his arm.

A wicked idea crossed his mind, and he simply couldn't stop himself. "And finally," Logan said. "Lex Luthor and …" Logan paused and mock-covered the microphone as he leaned toward a _stunned_ and insulted-looking Selene. He didn't drop his voice as he continued, though it came through the speakers only _slightly_ muffled. "... what was your name again, honey?"

Snickers erupted through the crowd and in his earpiece as Selene clenched her teeth and ground out a hiss. "You know _perfectly well_ what my name is," she said, but when Logan held her gaze and continued his faux amnesia, she finally bit it out. " _Selene Gallio._ "

"Right," Logan said, putting on a winning smile as he removed his hand from the microphone — and though it had blocked what Selene said, it hadn't done any good at all to block his side of their conversation. "Selene Gallows."

From behind him, Dick Grayson let out a tremendous snort of a laugh — though shockingly, Bruce Wayne didn't look like he was far behind him when Logan turned from the microphone and smirked their way. On Coulson's prompting, Peggy stepped up with a professional smile and a handful of cards to address the candidates on how the rest of the announcement was going to proceed. There was no other choice in it. Coulson had covered his mouth to hide the smile, but Peggy at least kept her composure.

* * *

 **Skye**

* * *

Skye was grinning to herself at the reaction Logan was getting from the crowd. Sure, stolen kisses and makeout sessions behind closed doors and well away from anyone's notice were great for his general mood, but he seemed to be deaf when it came to _listening_ to everyone telling him they cared. _Kinda hard to fight with a whole country,_ Skye thought to herself as Jubilee, Kate, and Betsy Braddock crowded around her to watch the broadcast on the split screen of the laptop.

"He's doing so well," Betsy said delightedly — her tone perfectly proud.

"He always does well," Jubilee countered confidently, her nose in the air as if this whole arrangement had been her doing.

Karima Shapandar passed them by on her way to meet up with Maria Hill as they prepared to step onstage at their cue to announce their bid for the presidency, and Skye nodded to herself as she checked that off of her list. The first candidates were lined up, and they had scarcely gotten into place when Victor Von Doom sneered at her as he and his very blonde, very not-nice-looking 'running mate' passed. He had his chin tipped up as he straightened his tie, the massive and ugly ring on his hand glinting strangely in the low light backstage.

"Who's that creep?" Kate asked over Skye's shoulder, though before Skye could answer her, Betsy Braddock filled her in with the most concise description Skye had ever heard.

"He's an overly rich Capitolite that has been trying to _buy_ Sue Storm's affections for over a decade," Betsy said. "It wasn't enough to buy time with her; he was delusional enough to think that Mrs. Richards would be so smitten she'd leave her husband."

"Somehow, that sounds even skeezier than I thought," Jubilee said, though Betsy shrugged.

"There are all kinds of wealthy Capitolites that think their obsession equals a relationship with their favorite victors. Still."

Skye shuddered at that, knowing full well that Logan was on guard being there — and she still hadn't been able to run down the full list of all the people that had bought time with one victor or another. But she wanted to. For their peace of mind. All of them. Not _just_ her favorite victor, who seemed to have a sign on his back inviting evil women to try and stake a claim on him.

Peggy Carter had just taken the microphone when Lex Luthor started her way, looking far less approachable than she'd ever seen him, but Skye had her orders, too. "You can't run if you don't have a running mate — you know that, right?" Skye said as Luthor stopped and turned her way.

"I have one," he said shortly.

"Okay, but you didn't tell us who it was so you can be properly announced. Just tell me who it is so I can inform the director who—"

"I need a stylist — _a competent one_ — and I need them _now_ ," Selene said, breaking through a small crowd of well-wishers, SHIELD agents, and security.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," Skye ground out, already on her guard, since it really wasn't _that_ long ago that this _vampire_ had tried to kill her and capture _her_ boyfrie-

"I've got it," Jubilee said, waving Noh off as she zipped over to Selene — and immediately found herself as the target of Selene's demanding, obnoxious attitude.

Skye's mind was racing. She was _sure_ Selene was still looking for a way to get to Logan — and that would be _stupid_ easy for her if she managed to get into office. "Alright," Skye said in a more businesslike tone as her fingers began flying across her keyboard, digging into anything she could find that might tell her what the witch was up to. She paused to make sure she had a small window in the corner of her screen so she could _watch_ Logan's reaction while she got busy.

"Are you going to tell him about _her_?" Kate asked.

"They're already staging … he can probably see," Skye said, almost distractedly. Already, there were questions she had on how Selene had managed to amass her new fortune … again. And though she was concerned for Logan, she was pretty sure he could handle _Selene Gallio_. He'd been amazing in dealing with her in the past, after all. But Kate was right; there was that side of the job to do too."You'll have to announce them," she said after she flipped her comm to Logan back on. "I'll help you out if you don't know who some of these bottom feeders are." She flipped the mic off. "Though I doubt you'll need me for this part."

It hadn't missed her notice that both of the Capitolite women on stage had at the very least schmoozed up to Logan in the shark tank. She could check into it deeper later and turn the tables to hit them back for their sleazy behavior … but only after Skye got a hold of the dirt she needed to screw with Luthor and Doom. Priorities were important, after all, and even if she felt as if she had a stake in it now, the bigger trouble had to be dealt with first. And that was most definitely Luthor and Doom.

Of course … her plots and plans were all set off to the side when she heard Logan purposely screw up Selene's intro to the country. "Oh my God," Jubilee said in a tone of disbelief. "Was he … did he just …" But that was all she got out before she fell apart cackling. "You get 'em, Wolvie!"

The whole mood on the stage _and_ backstage had shifted when Logan so casually snubbed Selene, and Betsy Braddock was positively _rolling_ with laughter as she leaned on Jubilee. "Oh, I love it when he does things like that," Betsy was saying with a grin.

"Oh my God, you're _actually_ insane," Skye said into Logan's earpiece with a little laugh — though the only indication that he'd heard her was the crooked smirk that pulled at the corner of his mouth as the candidates began talking about their platforms, one at a time.

Which was their cue to clear the stage. Logan followed the tributes and victors on the way out, though he didn't make it far before Dick Grayson was bouncing over — quite literally — and threw his arms around Logan in a hug. "Scene stealer!" he teased. "That was beautiful!"

"No kidding," Kate giggled, holding her stomach as she laughed. "I haven't laughed that hard since America locked Billy and Teddy in their room and wouldn't let them out again until they got engaged."

"Seriously?" Dick laughed.

"Seriously," Kate confirmed, though she darted forward to hug Logan too, still grinning wordlessly. She didn't have to say anything to tell Logan how much she loved him, but it was there in her face all the same.

"I gotcha," Logan muttered over her shoulder before the hug ended and she slipped back to get a hold of Kurt.

"Really, though," Dick said, one hand on Logan's shoulder as his father and sister approached. "Way to stick your thumb on the scale."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Logan replied.

"In this case, that's not a bad thing," Bruce said with a smirk.

"Oh, yeah, no, wasn't accusing you of anything," Dick promised, quickly holding up both hands. "Well, nothing but scene stealing."

"Yes, because that's always the most important aspect for you, Grayson," Helena teased before she slipped over to Logan. "You did well," she promised him and squeezed his arm with a crooked smile. "Best acting I've ever seen you do."

"We'll see if it makes a difference," he replied mildly.

She looked him over carefully, as if she was writing an evaluation. "One of these days, Logan, you're going to have to stop underestimating yourself." Her expression changed to a mischievous smile, and she bopped him on the nose before she added in a whisper, "It's getting old, pal."

Logan didn't get to turn away from the Wayne family before Bobbi made her way over and wrapped him up in a bear hug from behind. "That was perfect," Bobbi laughed. "She'll be fighting that slip of the tongue for the whole campaign."

"Somehow, I doubt it'll be the last time that happens," Kurt said with a proud grin as he made his way over to Logan with his arm around Kate.

Skye was smirking crookedly when Kaldur Ahm and his new _friend_ came closer to the group, though she wasn't expecting Logan to _check in_ on the guy — especially when he was surrounded by so many other people.

"I know you won't take it," Logan said as he pushed his way out of the hug to get to Kaldur, "but the offer's open to stay at the Estate if Arcadia's hard to handle."

"You are not wrong in assuming that it may be difficult at first," Kaldur said in a measured pace, though he had tipped his chin down. "But I have to defend my honor — and ensure that Atlantis is not tossed aside by the new leadership there. That was the promise I made."

"I doubt that'll happen," Logan said, tipping his head to the side. "You don't happen to have a coin on you, do ya?"

Skye wrinkled up her nose as Logan reached down to one of the side pockets in his cargo pants to produce a leather-sheathed knife with designs burnished into the leather and beads sewn onto it to make a pattern.

Kaldur looked confused for a moment, but Bobby was quick to dig into his pocket and shove a quarter into Kaldur's hand. "I know about this one," Bobby said.

Skye watched the show as Logan handed the knife to Kaldur. "I know you don't need any weapons from me," Logan said. "But think of this as a promise to you — not your country — to watch your back. This knife has seen me through a lot of hard winters and I don't even know how many hunts. It was given to me by a friend that was in the tribe back in Seven when I needed a reminder of who I was. It's not an official thing. It's just me, thanking you for everything you did and all the crap you've had to put up with."

Bobby urged Kaldur to hand the coin over with the explanation that went with it. "It's to keep from cutting the friendship," he said over Kaldur's shoulder.

Kaldur nodded wordlessly, a surprised smile at the corner of his mouth as Logan pocketed the coin with a smirk. He obviously hadn't expected Logan to do anything like this — but then, he also hadn't expected Logan to take his words to heart about the Tahiti program and so much else, so he kept getting surprised.

"And officially," Logan added, "the offer's open to come to _Canada_ when you need a break. We're known for the trees, but we got oceanfront too, if you go far enough west."

"Perhaps when my duties allow," Kaldur started to say, but Bobby cut across him.

"I'll make him take breaks. Otherwise, he'd work himself to death with _diplomacy_." He made a face that illustrated exactly how ridiculous that sounded to him.

Kaldur shook his head at Bobby, lightly rolling his eyes. "I'll come," he told Logan — more firmly this time.

"Good."

Kaldur inclined his head in a slight bow and then turned to leave — though Logan and anyone who was looking closely enough caught that the diver had slipped his hand into Bobby's when they both thought they were far enough from the crowd.

"Hey," Skye said as she reached over to rest her hand on Logan's arm. "We need to get moving. The press is going to want to talk to … well. Everyone now."

"Right," Logan said, though before he could take a step, Jubilee stepped into their path.

"I'm just gonna borrow him for a minute," Jubilee promised, grinning at Skye. "Then I promise I'll give him back after I double-check that he's camera ready."

"I just got off the damn stage," Logan argued.

"Yes. And then you were hugged by half of the people that had been _on_ the stage," Jubilee said, reaching up to wipe off the slightest smudge of lipstick — that Jubilee had put there herself.

"She's right," Skye said, unable to stop the laugh at the look of sheer betrayal on Logan's face. "I'll come get you on official business. I promise." But that, of course, had Betsy Braddock laughing as Jubilee led him toward the other officials that were already gathered to face the flashing bulbs and loaded questions.


	76. Chapter 76: Head Over Heels

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're checking in with another one of our favorite ships, with robbie's Dick Grayson ;)**

 **Thank you, SERIOUSLY, to our reviewers, especially our writers and marathon reviewers, for making us smile every time a new review posts on this story. Practically an Avenger, we are seriously cracking up and loving your enthusiasm on our ships. Here, have more fluff!**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy-Six - Head Over Heels**

 **Dick Grayson**

 **District Seven**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _A wedding, a great wedding, is just a blast. A celebration of romance and community and love... What is unfun about that? Nothing." -_ Ariel Levy

* * *

A new Marvel.

That was all anyone was talking about: the future of the country. Or countries, really. Four wanted to go live in its own drama, Eleven wanted to consolidate into its own country, and Seven wanted to leave the rest of Marvel to its own devices and slip into peaceful invisibility in the trees.

Which was great. Really. Dick liked most of what he was hearing about the new Marvel, about how travel between districts would be encouraged, about how people could choose their own paths and their own leadership. Great, world-shaping stuff.

He wasn't paying attention to, oh, about one hundred percent of it.

Okay, so he listened to _some_ of it. Enough to get the basics. But honestly, he didn't care about most of it. He enjoyed the spotlight, and he paid enough attention that he could talk to any reporters covering the thing, but his head was elsewhere — and so were a lot of the reporters' questions.

"You two seem pretty tight," said a blonde reporter who managed to catch up to Dick and Kory as they were leaving Logan's big announcement. She gestured to their hands, which were tightly entwined enough that Kory's ring, the one Dick had given her not that long ago, was hidden. They weren't doing that on purpose; Dick just liked to play with the ring when they held hands, reminding himself that she was his and he was hers. "Looks like that much hasn't changed since the Games."

"Why would it?" Kory asked, one eyebrow raised in a silent challenge to the reporter. "We have never been quiet about our feelings for one another."

"You certainly haven't," the reporter replied with a wide smile.

Dick glanced at Kory, who met his gaze with her own eyes dancing in amusement. And that hidden laughter was enough to prompt him as he turned back to the reporter. "Hey, I'm seizing a second shot at life," he said. "I came back to this world and found out the girl of my dreams still loves me? The only reasonable reaction here is to ask her to be mine."

Several cameras flashed in their faces; they were starting to draw a crowd. "Is that so?" the blonde reporter asked, her hungry expression attracting more reporters like sharks in the water.

When Dick's gaze found Kory's, he could see in her expression that she blamed him for the mobbing, though she was laughing lightly under her breath, so he hadn't completely screwed things up. Which was good, because he was actually _enjoying_ himself.

He'd been a Flying Grayson without a spotlight too long. This gaggle of reporters, this interest in his personal life? This felt _way_ more normal than therapy with Charles or political announcements with Logan.

He hadn't realized how much he missed "normal."

* * *

It hadn't taken long for Dick and Kory to become "interest pieces" in the coverage of Marvel after the war. Sure, there was an election to cover, and that in itself was journalistic gold, but for the gossip section, there was nothing better than a marriage between former tributes — especially when one was a victor and the other was undead.

Someone managed to get just one picture where Kory's ring was visible, and that was it. Everyone went nuts. And even for Dick, who loved the spotlight, this whole thing was starting to spiral out of the realm of acceptability.

Everyone wanted to know what their plans were, when the wedding was, who would be invited — the whole nine. And after about the fiftieth question about whether Kory was pregnant or not — as if that was the only reason they could want to get married so young — Dick finally had enough, and he pulled Kory aside one morning with as serious an expression as she'd seen him wear in a while.

"If we got married right now, today, what would you absolutely _have_ to have to make that happen?" he asked her.

"Well, I would like for you to be there," she teased him, but when he held her gaze intently, she paused and frowned, thinking it over more carefully. "I would want to go back to Twelve and get my mentors. They should see my triumphs in love as well as battle."

"Oh yeah, I'm quite the conquest," he teased without missing a beat, and she laughed and threw her arms around his neck to pull him into a long kiss.

"Yes, my favorite victory," she teased right back.

He couldn't stop grinning as he got lost in her for a while, one hand in the small of her back and the other in her hair until he was pressed against the wall and she was leaning into him so hard that he _had_ to use the wall for support or they'd both tumble backward. And they'd already gotten yelled at by Mrs. Hopkins for "inappropriate behavior" in the hallway.

Twice.

This was right about the time when one of them would usually break the kiss and make the suggestion for some privacy, but this time around, when Dick pulled back slightly, he kissed the base of her jaw and whispered, "I'm serious, Kory. What do you need so we can just _get married_?"

Kory blinked at him a few times, making the switch from thinking about privacy to thinking about his question. He couldn't help but smile when he saw it; he knew that feeling well. There had been _so_ many times that he'd gotten so lost in Kory he'd forgotten how to think clearly; it was nice to know he had the same effect on her.

When she took her time answering, he continued, "Because if it's just that we need to get your friends from Twelve, I'll get on a transport right now, grab the Titans and my family and Logan—"

"He really is part of your family; that last part is redundant," Kory teased him.

"Okay, while that's true, I was thinking of asking him to officiate," Dick admitted, smiling wider as she drew her fingers through his hair while they talked. He wanted to whisk her away somewhere, but he also wanted to get married, and they _did_ actually need to talk about how to make that happen.

Kory paused to look him in the eyes and then laughed delightedly. "Perfect. He has been around since the start of our relationship. Of course he should be there when we cement it!"

Dick grinned. He loved Kory; he really did. He loved her enthusiasm, and he loved her support. He loved that they were on the same page. He loved the way she felt when he kissed her. He loved the way she could make him lose his breath just by moving.

"So, what do you say?" Dick breathed against her neck. "Want to get married?"

"I already said yes," she said.

"Yeah, I know, but I mean…" He took a deep breath. "Do you want to get married? Like, now?"

She traced her fingers lightly over his face and bit her lip. He wanted to kiss her so badly, and she probably knew it, which was why she was taking her time making up her mind. Finally, when Dick was almost aching with the desire to pull her to him and forget whatever they'd been talking about, she stole a gentle kiss and whispered against his mouth, "Let me make a few arrangements. There are some people I need to talk to — and not just my mentors."

"Old boyfriends whose hearts you need to break gently?" he teased without moving back even an inch from her. Both of his hands were in her hair now.

Kory let out a laugh that had his heart racing before she kissed him again. "No," she said. "But if we're getting married, I would at least like to have a dress. And I know a former stylist who will give me exactly what I want — and who was recently robbed of the chance to design a wedding dress for Diana Prince."

"You're going to conspire with him to kill me dead like you did in that parade outfit," he teased.

"Maybe," she replied without missing a beat. "But consider this: that parade outfit wasn't designed with you _specifically_ in mind. This one will be."

Dick let out a noise from the back of his throat that he simply couldn't stop before he took her in a tighter embrace, kissing her hard and long as she laughed against his mouth. With a promise like that, he couldn't help it.

He loved her so much.

* * *

While Kory dealt with her side of wedding prep, Dick had the harder task of tracking down SHIELD's director and convincing him to add one more thing to his already-busy schedule. Though Dick had the feeling that Logan at the very least wouldn't turn down the excuse to leave politics behind for a little while to talk to him.

His good luck held out, too: when Dick got to Logan's office, he arrived at the tail end of a meeting. People were trailing out of the office, which meant Logan was still inside and likely nursing a headache. But at least he wasn't hidden away somewhere with his "bodyguard." Dick knew better than to interrupt him if _that_ was the case.

Sure enough, Logan was at the desk, one hand shading his closed eyes as the dull roar of the meeting faded down to the tick-tock of the tall grandfather clock in the corner, and Dick cleared his throat to get Logan's attention. "Hey, I need a favor."

"Does it have anything to do with any of the crap that's been boring the hell out of me lately, cause that'd end up bein' a hard no just because," Logan said before he cracked open one eye to look up at him.

"No, it's about me and Kory wanting to get married," Dick said.

"I had no idea," Logan deadpanned. "Have you two been seein' each other long?"

Dick rolled his eyes and let out a snort of a laugh. "Yeah, my whole second life."

"So she's a cradle-robber."

"Something like that," Dick said before he came to sit down across from Logan. "But we decided we're done waiting for things to 'calm down' enough to figure out a time and place. We're just gonna run with it."

"Smart move," Logan agreed earnestly.

"Glad you think so, since we want you to officate."

Logan stared at him for a long moment. "Skye, can you get Charlie down here? I'm pretty sure Grayson's finally cracked."

When Skye laughed, Dick grinned and shook his head. "Seriously, Logan. You're our first pick."

"Seriously, what the hell's wrong with you?"

"You mean besides vivid flashbacks, PTSD, and a severe lack of not being married yet?" Dick shot back without missing a beat.

"Yeah."

"Nothing beyond that; I'm pretty sure that covered all the issues."

Logan held his gaze and frowned. "Don't you have to know what you're doing to pull that off? Or have some kind of license?"

"Hey, you're the director of SHIELD," Dick pointed out. "I'm pretty sure you're going to have to approve any Tahiti-level marriage anyway until this whole thing is sorted out."

"You've really looked at all the technical angles already, haven't you?" Logan asked, crossing his arms.

"Hey, if it was up to me, I'd grab you and the Titans and my family and elope right _now_ , so yeah, I've looked into it. And you've got the clearance and the authority, not to mention you've literally been there since the second we first saw each other, so yeah, I want the director of SHIELD, my mentor, and my _friend_ to be my officiant, okay? You gonna tell me I can't ask who I want?" Dick challenged.

"Not what I said," Logan replied. "But you're overlooking the fact that I don't know the first thing about any of that."

"So?" Dick said with a shrug. "Read up. We're not asking for anything fancy. Just do the basic ceremony. I'm sure there's something in that library. Or SHIELD's files, for that matter. Not like we're the only ones to ever get married, ever. There's gotta be a manual."

"I'll look it up," Skye offered when Logan couldn't come up with a reason to say no and then smirking to herself as Logan gave her a glare.

"Great," Dick said, getting to his feet before he went ahead and vaulted over the desk to hug Logan. "I'm getting married. Thanks for helping me get there."

"Alright. Enough of that," Logan grumbled as he half-heartedly returned the hug. "Just promise that I won't have to listen to every damn step of this fiasco."

"Already asked Helena to help me with the planning part. You just show up and do the official stuff," Dick promised, one hand over his heart. "My sister's got my back; no worries."

"And your dad's okay with this?"

"As close to 'okay' as Bruce gets, really," Dick said with a shrug. "Helps that Kory's been keeping me on track with Charles and all that. It makes a big difference to him to see her doing more than just making out with me on the Games screen," he added with a crooked smirk. "But seeing as Alfred has already called dibs on the wedding cake, Bruce doesn't have a choice, so… he'll be _fine_."

"Does Bruce know you wanted _me_ to do this?"

Dick shrugged. "He'll be fine with it," he said. "You're practically part of the family anyway. Not like he's gonna argue with me on it. It's _my_ wedding."

"Optimistic to a fault."

"Write it on my tombstone, Logan. That's my whole thing," Dick said, getting to his feet and already headed out. "Skye — make sure he studies, wouldja? I want to get married, not inducted into SHIELD clearance level whatever."

"He got rid of the clearance levels," Skye chuckled.

"Well, that's one worry down," Dick said. He paused at the doorway. "Really, though, thanks for doing this. It'll mean a lot to me _and_ Kory. You've been there since we met in an elevator. Kinda feels right for you to be there when we tie the knot, you know?"

"I hear ya," Logan said. "In case you missed it: Congratulations."

Dick grinned over his shoulder as he left. "Thanks."

* * *

It was kind of impressive how quickly a wedding could come together even in the middle of a historic transition for the countries of Marvel writ large.

Dick got the feeling the staff at the Howlett Estate had been hoping for something like this for a while now, an event big enough for them to really sink their teeth into with all the skills that had been languishing under Old Man Howlett, judging by the way they threw themselves into the task until the gardens on the estate looked like the Capitol themselves had arranged them for a royal coronation.

And then there were Jubilee and Noh-Varr, who had attacked the task of designing for a wedding like it was their goal in life, not only putting together a wedding dress for Kory but also making sure the wedding party looked dapper to a tee. Gar's necktie was already undone, of course, but Thea and Raven both looked stunning, and Helena in deep purple as Dick's best woman looked the proper Wayne part, as always.

He felt her finger tapping against his wrist as they waited for Kory to make her arrival and grinned over his shoulder at her. There couldn't have been any other choice for Dick when he had to find someone to stand up for him. Helena would always have his back, and he knew it. He hadn't even had to ask, really. He just told her he wanted her there, and she was there.

Bruce was there as well, just behind Helena, trying to pretend he didn't look proud even if his chest was puffed up without his permission. Alfred was in the front row with Tim. And Logan was standing at the head of the whole affair looking like he still couldn't believe Dick wanted him involved. Not that he was going to back out when it was clear Dick and Kory wanted so _badly_ to be married. He was pretty well stuck by that point.

Kory's parents had come, as well as her mentors, though Dick didn't know them well enough to strike up much conversation. He did notice that her sister wasn't there for her the way Helena was there for him, and he hated that for Kory. Even if Raven and Thea had both insisted that they would make up the difference for Kory, it had to hurt knowing her own sister had refused to come.

But that thought — and every other thought — completely left Dick's mind when Kory finally arrived.

 _That is so completely unfair._

Kory and Noh-Varr had conspired together to make sure Dick looked like a drooling idiot on his own wedding day; he was sure of it. Because the dress… The dress was cut so low that the 'V' ended nearly at her waist. The fabric was tied up at her neck, baring her shoulders as well as … everything else, really. And it had _no back_. It almost wasn't a dress at all from the waist up, though it was long and flowing from the waist down.

 _So unfair._

By the time Kory came to a stop in front of him, the guests were already laughing, and Logan didn't bother to hide his amusement when Dick couldn't stop _staring_.

"You gonna need a minute, Dammit?"

Dick tried to play it off, but when the only sound that came out of his mouth when he tried to speak was a breathless noise, Kory laughed delightedly, and he lost all track of what he was trying to say anyway.

 _Un. Fair._

His hearing finally sort of fuzzed back partway through whatever Logan was saying, though it wasn't until Helena outright elbowed him in the ribs that he finally managed to snap his gaze up at Logan, who was smirking openly. He didn't know where they were in the ceremony or what was going on, but he was pretty sure he had to actually _participate_ to get married. So he _tried_ to focus better.

 _Something about vows…. Right! Vows!_

He blinked a few times and then met Kory's gaze, lost once more in the laughter he could see there before he cleared his throat and took both of her hands and tried to remember what he'd actually _practiced_ saying. All that work that went into coming up with something he thought would be meaningful, and here he was standing like an idiot.

"You're so far out of my league it's not even funny," he breathed out, then swallowed. "Kory Anders," he said, a little clearer this time, "I don't know what I did in my past life — you know, the one not that long ago before the Games? That one? — anyway, I don't know what I did that made me deserve you, but whatever it is, I'm glad I did it. You take my breath away, you pick me up when the world is too heavy on my shoulders, you make me laugh, and you make me feel _whole_. So whatever I have to do to make you feel as safe and as loved as you make me feel, I promise I'll do it, for the rest of my second life."

There were a few murmurs as well as laughter at the way Dick described the elephant in the room — but he wasn't going to _not_ address it. He knew that he'd already died on her once, and he knew it still bothered her, and so he wanted to make sure she knew it didn't matter. It didn't change one bit of how he felt about her. Joking about it, he figured, minimized its power over them — and got her to smile.

And yes, there was that bright smile as she held onto his hands a little tighter. "Dick Grayson," she said, and his stomach did backflips, "I have known since first I met you that you were extraordinary. For the first time in my life, I wanted to blush just as badly as you did. All the time we've spent together has taught me so much — how to laugh, how to love, how to live. You keep my feet on the ground, and you mean everything to me. I cannot imagine my life without you." She smiled more brightly, emotion shining in her eyes. "I love you."

Dick couldn't focus on anything but Kory, his ears still ringing and his heart beating somewhere around where his vocal cords lived. Talking was impossible around that thumping, so he didn't even try — even though he knew that anyone who knew him well had to be amused by his total lack of anything to _say_. He always had a witty retort ready for every situation.

Except, apparently, this one.

He was glad, then, that all that was really left for him to do was follow along with a too-amused Logan until they got around to the part where he got to kiss Kory. And he probably could have been more polite about it, but she was _killing_ him with her teasing smile and backless dress, and, really, what else was he supposed to do besides grab her up in his arms and kiss her until Bruce cleared his throat _loudly_ to get their attention again?

He didn't pull back far from Kory, still grinning and not even considering looking anywhere but at her. "You know something?" he whispered gently.

"Mm?" The not-quite-a-word response from Kory had Dick grinning, since it indicated to him that she was just as lost in him as he was in her.

"I love you, Mrs. Grayson."

Kory smiled and then kissed him again for an answer, long and hard and impolite enough that Alfred got in on the throat-clearing until, finally, they broke apart to face a party full of people that wanted to wish them well and stand between them and some privacy to celebrate their marriage.

Ah, well. Dick could be patient for a _little_ while, anyway.


	77. Chapter 77: Have a Little Faith

**(A/N): Here we are, with the forever-fluff-queen Ophelia Claire rounding out our last round of chapters. Can you believe it? We're going to be posting chapters choc full of epilogues starting on Tuesday, but we just wanted to take the time to thank everyone for sticking with us on this journey, especially our writers, who have poured years and years of sweat, tears, and love into this.**

 **And, of course, thank you to our rockstar reviewers. Slim Summers2002 and Practically an Avenger, we love you to pieces! (And we love all our other reviewers too; you two just happened to review the last chapter, so you get shoutouts for being awesome :D)**

* * *

 **Chapter Seventy-Seven - Have A Little Faith**

 **Kurt Wagner**

 **The Capitol**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire**

* * *

"I'm trying to manufacture a sleepover feel; like a tree house or a clubhouse. I want people to be silly and play and feel safe." -Pete Holmes

* * *

The entire skyline of the Capitol was visible from the rooftop balcony. Dazzling spires reached up, seemingly almost brushing the clouds. Sunlight twinkled on thousands of windows, and a gentle breeze blew, lifting the curls that were beginning to once more drape across Kurt's forehead. The breeze carried a sweet scent with it — honeysuckle, maybe — and Kurt lifted his nose slightly to catch it as he leaned on the railing.

It was a beautiful day, and for the first time in nearly two years, Kurt was entirely at peace.

It was over. The war, the tragedies, the fighting and the bloodshed and the _pain._

He heard the door open behind him and gentle footsteps approaching before a pair of arms wrapped gently around his middle from behind.

"Hello, _Vögelchen_ ," he said, squeezing Kate's hands before turning around in her grasp and placing a kiss on her forehead.

"Did I interrupt any important thinking?" she teased.

"Not particularly. Just reflecting," Kurt said, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to stand next to him at the railing. "You know, it's funny," he said, looking out across the city once more. "I never thought I'd be able to see the Capitol as anything but…"

"Trash?" Kate finished. Kurt laughed.

"I mean, that might be a _bit_ harsh—"

"Nope."

"Yeah, you're right, trash. And yet now…" He glanced over at Kate. "Maybe it's just the radiant company I keep."

"You are a _ridiculous_ flirt," Kate said, giving him a gentle hip-check. "You're lucky you're cute."

"Oh, you love it."

"I _absolutely_ do."

Kurt cast his gaze across the tops of the buildings until he found what he was looking for: the building that housed the Training Center and the tributes' quarters. He pointed at it.

"Remember the first time we met?"

Kate followed his finger with her gaze and smiled. "Our little swordfight. I thought I was pretty good until I went up against you."

"The very first words you said to me were there. I believe it was 'Hey, Disappearing Kid.'"

Kate laughed. "Which, thinking back, you didn't even disappear — you _appeared_. Come to think of it, I don't think you ever told me how that happened?"

Kurt looked a little surprised. "Didn't I?" He thought for a moment. "Well, the chariot was modified so that Wanda and I could fit inside the base. We had these little pellets that made smoke and light. I remember feeling pretty pleased with myself when Tivan and Uatu thought we'd missed our chariot."

Kate giggled, and then the two of them stood in happy silence for a few more minutes before Kurt voiced another thought he'd been bouncing around in his head for a while.

"Do you want to come home with me?"

Kate cocked an eyebrow and smirked. "My, Mr. Wagner, are you always so forward with the ladies?"

Kurt blushed furiously. "I mean — you _know_ what I meant, Kate. I want to go home to Mama and the twins. I miss them _so_ much. And I want you to meet them, if you'd like to."

Kate grinned. "You must be serious about this, if you want me to meet your family."

Kurt gave her waist a squeeze. "I am deadly serious about this, Kate Bishop." He leaned over and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. "Besides, it's only fair. I feel as though I've already met your family — your found family, at least."

"That's the only one that matters," Kate said. "But I can't wait to meet your family. They've gotta be pretty great if they're even a little bit like you."

"They're wonderful." Kurt could still see the way his mother pushed back her dark locks of hair, the way Amanda's face lit up when Kurt pretended to be the dashing knight to her princess (and then took the stick he was using as a sword and fought the dragon herself, thank you very much). He could see the way Stefan would chase his sister around the house, only to find himself pinned under her before too long, both of them shrieking with laughter.

"We could — we could just go tonight. No more missions to go on, no more Hydra to fight. We can do whatever we want."

Kate leaned her head on his shoulder. "Whatever we want," she repeated softly. "We have our whole lives in front of us. After the Reaping… I never thought we'd make it all the way here."

Kurt tilted his head so that it rested on top of Kate's. "Life is surprising and crazy and wonderful like that."

* * *

It was a short flight to Nine. As the jet approached, Kurt looked out the front windshield and could see the rolling fields of grain, the sinking sun sending waves of gold and amber rippling across the sea of wheat.

For all it had been through, the place still looked like home. There were the trees at the edges of the fields that he would climb with Kitty. There was the lot where the circus had come to town all those years ago.

They set down in an empty lot not far from the Wagner home. Kurt didn't have much, just an overnight pack that he slung over his shoulder as he took Kate's hand. She gave it a squeeze in return.

"Everything's going to be fine," she said. "It's not like they won't want you around."

"I _know_ , it's just — what if the twins have begun to forget? What if—"

Kate cut him off with a kiss. "Nope," she said. "Putting an end to that right now. No spiraling. C'mon." She led him off the jet.

Kurt took the lead as they hit the streets, walking down familiar roads and pointing out various places to Kate. She just listened as the words poured out of him, occasionally glancing over with an enamored expression on her face.

"What?" he asked the second or third time he caught her doing it.

"I love listening to you talk about the things you love, that's all," she said, giving him a cheeky grin.

Kurt just shook his head. "You are entirely—"

"Adorable?" Kate interjected.

Kurt raised an eyebrow. "Well, that's not what I was going to say, but if that's what you want to go with, we can go with that."

Finally, they turned onto Kurt's street. He swallowed thickly and took a shaky breath. Kate turned him to face her and placed her hands on his cheeks.

"Kurt, listen to me. Your family is waiting for you. They love you. You love them. There's nothing to be afraid of here. So go on." She spun him back to face they way he'd been headed.

Kurt was about to say something, but Kate held up a finger. "Nope. Go. I would drag you there myself if I knew which house it was." Kurt closed his mouth, grinned sheepishly, and continued down the street.

There were lights on in his house. The flower plots underneath the windows were still filled with his mother's lilac bushes, but now, there were little blue morning glories peppered in around them.

"I wonder if those are for you?" Kate said quietly. "Blue and all…"

Kurt walked up the front path, getting halfway there before he realized Kate was still down by the sidewalk. He stopped and turned back, but she shook her head.

"This is for you, not me."

Kurt nodded and continued on his way.

He climbed the two stone steps to the dark, oaken front door. The burnished brass knocker still hung in the middle, and he lifted it, rapping gently three times before letting it fall. His hands worried the straps of his bag while he waited.

Footsteps approached inside the door.

The lock clicked.

The door swung open, and there was Margali.

"Ye-" She began, before fully taking in the sight of her son standing before her. She and Kurt stood perfectly still for perhaps three seconds before she let out a wail and threw her arms around Kurt.

Kurt wrapped her tightly in his arms and buried his face in her shoulder. She still smelled the same, like lilacs and candles and baking bread. His mother's frame shook as she cried, and Kurt realized he was crying too.

Briefly, he registered someone inside the house saying "Mama? What's—" before two more people came barreling towards the front door, screaming with joy and crashing into the ongoing embrace. Kurt reached out and pulled Amanda and Stefan into the hug as well.

" _Lieblings_ , you've gotten so big…" Kurt murmured.

The twins were talking a mile a minute, even as their faces were squished into the hug.

"We saw you on TV—"

"And we knew some people were alive already—"

"But not who for sure—"

"And we didn't know if you were going to come home—"

"If you had important stuff to do still—"

"What kind of stuff did you have to do?"

"Were you a secret agent?"

"Were you a spy?"

"Did you get superpowers?"

Kurt just laughed as the twins bombarded him with questions, and they only increased as the twins caught sight of Kate.

"Who's that?"

"It's Kate Bishop, dummy; she was in his Games."

"Did she come with you?"

"Is she your _girlfriend_?"

"Do you _loooove_ her?" (Which set off a wave of high-pitched giggles.)

Kurt ruffled Amanda's and Stefan's hair behind Margali's back. "Yes, she is, and yes, I do. Very much so."

Margali finally pulled back slightly, though she kept running her hands along Kurt's arms, his cheeks, through his hair, as though she wasn't convinced he wouldn't disappear if she let him go.

"My son," she murmured. "My baby. My Kurt." She smiled at him, tears still tracking down her cheeks. "I knew you'd come back to us." She glanced over his shoulder and seemed to catch sight of Kate for the first time. "Oh, and you've brought someone?" She looked back at Kurt, a twinkle in her eye. "Someone special, perhaps?"

"Someone extremely special, Mama," Kurt said, turning and holding out his hand to Kate, who hurried up the sidewalk to his side. "This is Kate."

Kate grinned at Margali and the twins. "It's a delight to finally meet you; Kurt's told me all about you guys." She held out a hand, and Margali clasped it with both of hers.

"It's lovely to meet you too, Kate." Margali smiled knowingly at Kate. "From the moment you and my son met—"

"Mama _knew_ ," Amanda said with an exaggerated wink and an impish grin towards Kate.

"Oh, _mein Gott_ ," Kurt mumbled, burying his face in his hands, sure that his ears were burning bright red.

Margali laughed, high and clear and happy. "I did know, my dear. I could tell you were quite smitten with her from the beginning."

Kate was laughing now too. "Kurt, I _like_ your mom."

Kurt shook his head and began shepherding his family inside. "All right, all right, come on; you can keep making jokes about your dear _finally-returned son_ inside."

Margali got them all settled in the living room with some snacks before she began telling them all that had happened in the years since they'd gone.

"We… we had some rough times after... well, after you...ah." Margali pressed her lips together. "Kitty was over here quite a bit."

"Kitty!" Kurt sat forward. "She's all right?"

"Oh yes," Margali said. "She's been quite the... firecracker here in the district. We didn't have quite as strong of a Hydra presence here, but she had a band of folks that made life quite hard for those that were here."

Kurt glanced to his brother and sister as his mother spoke of Kitty's group and found that they both had very odd expressions on their faces.

Like they were… hiding something…

 _Oh._

Oho _ho_. Kurt pressed his lips together to conceal a smile. Apparently, his siblings had been doing a bit of secret agent work of their own.

"We should go get her!" Amanda suggested. "As long as you're here!"

Before anyone could argue, she and Stefan bolted from the room, the front door slamming a couple seconds later.

The three remaining occupants of the room stared at each other for a moment before they all let out a laugh.

"You're going to love Kitty," Kurt told Kate. "She's been my best friend since we were _tiny_. She's practically another sister. She's a lot like you, you know: smart, funny, strong, a bit headstrong at times, but in the best way possible."

"So what you're saying is you have a type," Kate teased.

"I mean — I never saw Kitty as — she's my best friend, but—"

"Oh!" Margali rose from the couch and hurried from the room. "Speaking of tiny, Kate, while you're here, of _course_ you have to see…" She returned carrying a thick photo album.

"Oh _no,_ " Kurt said immediately. "No, she does _not_ need to see those. _Nein._ "

Kate, on the other hand, looked absolutely _delighted_. "Kurt, are those _baby photos?_ "

Kurt stood, placing his hand on the album. "Nope. Definitely not. They are _not_ baby photos that definitely _don't_ need to be seen—"

Kate elbowed him aside and sat down next to Margali. "Oh, yes, they _do_."

Margali opened the book and began flipping through it. "I don't have photos of when he was _very_ small, of course — Kurt was adopted, has he told you the story? — but I took many as soon as he settled into the house." Kurt watched in what he could only call horror as Kate leaned in to look at the photos.

He was granted a small reprieve by the sound of voices approaching the house.

"—and I appreciate a good mysterious quasi-kidnapping as much as the next person, but this better be a good surprise for you to drag me out of my house at eight at night."

The front door opened, and Kitty's voice could now clearly be heard as they came into the living room. "All right, what's this _amazing_ —" She stopped dead in her tracks as she came to the doorway and saw Kurt sitting on the couch.

Her expression went from confusion to disbelief to realization to joy in the span of about two seconds, and she shrieked in delight, jumping straight over the low table in the middle of the room and flinging herself on to the couch to tackle Kurt in a hug. It was a good thing the couch was against the wall, or it would certainly have tipped over backward.

"I can't believe you're _here!"_ Kitty cried. "I thought I was never going to _see_ you again, and then all of a sudden, there you are on TV, and oh my _gosh,_ Kurt, so much has _happened!"_ She hugged him once more for good measure before releasing him and turning to Kate. "Hi," she said, a little breathlessly. "I'm Kitty. You're Kate Bishop, right? You're awesome."

Kate grinned at Kurt. "Ooh, you were right. I love her already." She looked at Kitty. "You're just in time for _baby pictures._ "

So, for the next hour, Kurt was subjected to Kitty and Kate's various coos and squeals of delight as they and Margali paged through Baby Kurt in the bath, Baby Kurt with food all over his face, Baby Kurt parading through the house — _oh, mein Gott_ — with no pants on.

"Hey, look at it this way," Amanda whispered to Kurt as Kate giggled over a picture of Baby Kurt with a soap-bubble beard in the bathtub. "If she stays after this, you know she really loves you."

Kurt just groaned and buried his head in his hands.

All too soon, the twins were yawning, and Margali declared it bedtime. Kitty gave Kurt one last hug.

"I know you're probably off soon to do more secret-agent-save-the-world kind of stuff, but don't forget to visit, okay? We have two years of shenanigans to make up."

Kurt returned the hug. "From what I hear, you've done pretty well on your own these last couple years. But don't worry; I'll be back plenty. And I'll come say goodbye tomorrow morning."

"You are staying the night, then?" Margali asked as Kate headed down the sidewalk.

Kurt nodded emphatically. "Yes, of course, Mama. Kate needs to taste your French toast before we leave, after all."

Margali began shepherding the twins off to bed, though they claimed through their yawns that they definitely weren't tired and wanted to stay up for more baby pictures.

Kurt and Kate were left to deal with another small issue: sleeping arrangements.

"Even if ... uh, even if we wanted to, um, share the bed, I don't think it's big enough," Kurt said, thankful for the dim light that hid yet another blush. "I can just sleep in the living room, and you can take my bed."

Kate started to protest, but Kurt shook his head. "You're the guest, as Mama would say. And..." He lowered his voice. "And I don't want to cause you discomfort. I know… I know that it's still a bad subject for you."

For a moment, Kurt could see Kate's eyes tighten and tell him that he was right, but then she squeezed his arm with a smile and tried to play it off. "I was just going to say at least bring the couch cushions into your room and make a nest or something," Kate said. "I don't want to banish you from your own room on your first night back in two years."

Kurt smiled. "Pillow nest it is, then."

They took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed before turning out the lights and settling down in their respective sleeping spots. Before laying down, Kurt sat up at the edge of his bed.

"Hey," he murmured, resting his chin on the mattress. Kate shimmied slightly, putting her face close to his.

"Hey," she replied, the smile evident in her voice, though her face wasn't very visible in the dark.

" _Ich liebe dich, Vögelchen_ ," Kurt said, leaning forward to plant a kiss on whatever part of her face he could find in the dark, which ended up being her nose.

"I love you too, Kurt," she said sleepily, returning the kiss.

Kurt settled down, pulling the extra blankets around him, his heart feeling like it was swelling with happiness in his chest.

And when he awoke the next morning and found more cushions piled next to him with Kate asleep on top of them, it was practically bursting.


	78. Epilogue: In the Tiki Room

**(A/N): Well, here we are. Can you believe we're at the epilogues? We just want to take a second to thank everyone who has been involved in this story. A LOT of hard work and heart went into it, and we love you all for it.**

 **Thank you to our writers who reviewed for supporting each other and for being generally awesome. Thanks also to our regular reviewers: Slim Summers2002 (Kate does have great lines), Practically an Avenger (stay tuned... your wish is our command!), and TRV (we love it when you marathon-review, so thank you for taking the time to acknowledge all the hard work going into every single piece!) We love you guys!**

* * *

 **Epilogue - In the Tiki Room**

 **Written by Abby Well and Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 **Special Agent Skye**

 **SHIELD Cyber Task Force**

 **The Triskellion, the Capitol**

* * *

" _Have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary." -_ Steve Jobs

* * *

Skye was having one hell of a day. So much had changed in the last five years, and she couldn't hardly believe that she was finally getting a chance to take a breath — but it had taken this long for her to do so. Even if she wasn't entirely sure _when_ that break would actually happen. While the war had tapered off quickly, her job had amped up. And it had all started the day that SHIELD announced the first election in Marvel since Thanos and his ilk had taken over the country.

She'd spent almost every minute of all her days ahead of the election shooting down one cyber attack after another on SHIELD's servers — and tracking down who was behind them. It had gotten to be such a big job that she not only called in Fitz to help but ultimately Tony Stark, too. And when it was clear that the trouble wasn't going to be stopped by their countermeasures alone, she told Logan what the trouble was — and within a matter of hours, his little group of _very_ scary special ops agents had put an end to the servers that the trouble was coming from.

What's more, she was running the lion's share of the fact-checking on the candidate's promises and what was even possible ahead of the election, since Logan's promise of transparency was forcibly put onto the candidates running as well. That wasn't a big deal for Charles Xavier or even Maria Hill — though her guilt by association was doing her far more harm than good whenever she or her running mate mentioned their work with SHIELD. But Lex Luthor and Selene Gallows — _no_ , Skye reminded herself with an amused smirk, Selene _Gallio_ — had been a pain from day one. And Lex Luthor had even started a smear campaign against _Logan,_ calling him no better than Fury and the next best thing to an animal. But Logan himself had taken them down on his _own_ by simply doing what he'd done to _gain_ so much support in the first place during impromptu mini interviews while travelling from one SHIELD meeting to another — or, more commonly, between special missions he insisted on doing himself … and SHIELD meetings. Not that anyone needed to know where he'd been.

Thinking back, Skye had been incredibly grateful for those missions and those interviews, since until Luthor's numbers nosedived after an aired _personal opinion_ statement from Logan, she simply hadn't been able to see that Victor Von Doom was running his own scam to try and subvert the election. But once her focus shifted from Luthor to Doom, she had her hands full all over again.

The guy was _way_ smarter than Skye had thought initially, which was how she ended up with Tony Stark as a consultant. And he'd been _gleeful_ at the chance to 'play'.

Before it was done, they'd found no less than half a dozen blatant attempts to hijack the election — and stopped them. It took almost a week to count, recount, and recount _again_ (since no one trusted the voting machines by that point) to announce that Charles Xavier and Erik Lensherr had won the presidency by a wide margin.

Their first term and their re-election was one marked by peace — as far as the public was concerned. The Cyber Task Force that Skye headed up and the Special Operations division that Logan had stepped into — in addition to his directorial duties — were insanely busy, it seemed. All of the special services Logan had wanted to provide for the people of Marvel were falling into place — if they weren't already operational.

But now, Skye was training people to cover her position. People she _trusted,_ like Felicity Smoak, who had joined up not long _before_ the revolution started … and quickly worked her way into the new SHIELD's good graces by a combination of skills and sass. Which was good, because that was kind of a requirement to work at SHIELD now.

Felicity had been fast-tracked from the time Skye's tech department found her — not only because she was _so good_ at writing code and tearing into other people's tech but due in large part to the fact that she was a straight-up genius in _inventing_ tech, too. And one piece in particular had caught the highest level of scrutiny after an attempted assassination in the director's office with some nearly _untraceable_ tech that altered the would-be assassin's image.

Barely a week had passed after that incident before Felicity _insisted_ on demonstrating her new security system … which amounted to a major switch from the passcards that the Koenigs were so fond of to a DNA scanner paired with facial recognition that would only unlock doors that someone had clearance for … _if_ they also had their passcard. (Tough and bright as she was, it was clear that Felicity shared the same soft spot for the Koenigs that Skye did.)

The two women had barely gotten the system installed — with Fitz bubbling and ranting about how perfect it was — when Skye got to see Felicity's _other_ side.

Logan had recruited Oliver Queen onto his personal little squadron, and the two of them were inbound to Logan's office with Oliver being half-supported between Logan and James Proudstar — and clearly beaten up badly. It was bound to happen — that team had a tendency to pull down lots of danger where they went — and Felicity finally had enough when Oliver tried to cite 'security' as his reason for not telling her where he'd been.

The following conversation had been both scathing to Oliver and the team he was on and incredibly illuminating for Skye and Logan both on what kind of a force of nature Felicity truly was. Especially when she cut Oliver off multiple times with a very clear and concise, "No. Now is the part where you _listen."_ When she was done, all Oliver could do was agree with her, and Skye sidled up to Logan before Simmons could get away with Oliver — and Felicity was already back to work.

"I think I want to make her a better job offer than what she has," Skye said quietly to Logan.

"Do it," Logan had replied. "I like her."

And now, Skye was unbelievably grateful that she had Felicity to step in for her while she took a well-earned break at _least_ … and possibly a retirement if all went well for Felicity with the director and assistant director. Skye's shoulders dropped as she looked around her office — she'd come a long way from a punk startup in her van to a sprawling office overlooking the most coveted view in the Capitol. But it was easy to see how so many people burned out of this kind of position fast. At least _now_ they weren't being executed for their exit interview.

Skye leaned back, weary and a little tired. "You know what?" she said as Felicity came through the room and stopped to turn her way with a raised eyebrow look. "I don't know why I'm stressing out. You've so totally got this."

"I so totally do," Felicity agreed, setting down her tablet before she made her way over to Skye. She hopped up on the desk and drummed her fingers on the top of it. "And you have absolutely earned a break. So … what gives? Why the stress?"

"I just really want things to go well," Skye said, waving a hand when she saw the frown brewing on Felicity's features. "I'm not even worried about me or this department."

"No, of course not," Felicity said. "You're worried about Logan and if he can keep going now that there's literally nothing for him to do here."

"Yes. That."

Felicity blew out a breath. "I think … we need to get a milkshake and some fries if we're going to discuss the men on that team." She pulled on Syke's arm. "Come on, I'll buy — just this once — since you're getting ready to go on sabbatical."

"You're the best, Smoak," Skye replied with a smile.

"Of course I am. That's why you picked me." Felicity was smiling to herself. "That and we're kind of unstoppable, you and I."

"We are," Skye agreed.

"Especially with Fitz helping," Felicity added. "This is _such_ a different tech division for SHIELD. All …"

"Sunshine and positivity?"

"Exactly."

"How the hell did we get clearance for that?"

"The way I heard it? _Someone_ has the director's ear," Felicity teased in her best scandalized tone, bumping Skye with her hip as they left the high-security section of the Triskellion.

"It's a perk," Skye agreed with a crooked smile that had Felicity grinning her way. It only cemented it in her mind: she knew she'd chosen well when she teamed up with Felicity. Her carefully-built cyber division was in good hands. For however long she needed her to be there.

* * *

 **Pamela Isley**

 **Somewhere in the South Pacific**

* * *

" _If there is a future, it will be Green."_

Petra Kelly

* * *

Someone was hiding in her garden, and Ivy was going to find them.

She crept, barefoot, soundless, across the dark soil, blending in seamlessly with her mud-stained skin and loose green sundress. It was quiet today, with only the occasional birdcall coloring the air. She could easily pick out the laughter when it came, stifled, from behind a row of multicolored hibiscus.

"I know you're here, little one," she sang out, pausing to listen. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

More muffled laughter, followed by a rustle of leaves as the intruder wriggled down further behind the bushes. Ivy tilted her head for a second, thinking, then changed direction to come up from the other side, where she could sneak right up close without being seen.

Nobody knew their way around this garden better than she did.

The laughter stopped; the intruder had realized Ivy had vanished from sight. In fact, she was poised a few feet away, hidden by green and shadow between tree trunks.

"Aha!" She pounced.

"Nooooo!" The intruder, a muddy four-year-old girl with blonde pigtails, tried to wriggle free of Ivy's tight grasp. Instead, she was unceremoniously tipped over her shoulder and carried away, her tiny fists pummeling Ivy's back. "Avvy, down! Daddy! Daddy, help!"

Wade popped his head around the cultivated archway over the garden gate, grinning at the sight that greeted him. "Did you murder my daughter?"

"I'm afraid so. Can't have munchkins sneaking around my garden, Wade; you know that." Ivy swung the girl upright and settled her on her hip. "It was horrible; really; I'm a monster." She turned her head and nuzzled the girl's neck, making ferocious noises.

Wade reached out to rescue his daughter, lifting her up so she sat on his shoulders with her little legs dangling on either side of his head. "Seems like she's all in one piece to me." He pinched her toes inside her sandals, making her giggle again. "Yup. Hundred percent Lucy-Locket. Avvy's lying, baby girl."

"No lying, Avvy," Lucy cried gleefully, pointing with an accusatory finger.

Ivy held up her hands in surrender. "You got me, sweetie, I'm sorry. Avvy won't lie anymore." She smiled. Sometimes it felt a little odd to refer to herself in the third person, but she did like Lucy's special name for her — 'Avvy' being a muddle of 'aunt' and 'Ivy'. Trying to get her to say both had been a disaster, so they'd compromised.

"Okay, say buh-bye now, sugarplum. Mommy wants us to wash up for dinner." Wade glanced up at his daughter's face, which had suddenly crumpled into something dangerously close to tears, and started bouncing her up and down. "We can come back later, if Avvy lets us?" He turned to look at Ivy, silently pleading with her to avert the impending tantrum.

"You can," Ivy said calmly, reaching up to take Lucy's hand and soothe the savage beast. "You can even bring your cars. But right now, I'd _really_ like it if we all went and had dinner, and you sat with Grandpa to cheer him up."

"Why?" Lucy asked suspiciously, sniffing loudly and blinking back unshed tears.

"Because he's a little sad today, and I know that seeing you would make him smile."

"Why?" She wasn't giving in.

Ivy hid a smirk, reminded strongly of Harley and her penchant for awkward yet insightful questions. "Because you're his favorite, and you make him happy. Can you be a big girl and do that for me?"

Lucy peered at her closely, her mouth drooping at the corners as she tried to work out if Ivy was lying. Eventually, she seemed satisfied. "Okay! Let's go, Daddy." She dug her heels into Wade's shoulders as if he were an unruly horse.

"We'll be right behind you," Ivy assured them, giving Wade's hand a quick squeeze. He nodded in understanding, and she watched them walk away down the stone path to the sound of Wade's abysmal horse impression before turning back to her garden.

It was an entirely different garden to the one she'd been in charge of back in Eleven, but she loved it all the same, loved to walk its paths of patterned stones or soft earth, eat of its fruits, breathe in the delicate scents that filled the warm, tropical air and washed over the whole island. Trees offered cool, shady patches to ward off the sun, and soft grass provided space to sit with picnics or to drive toy cars dressed in ballerina outfits through an imaginary jungle.

That was more Lucy's usual preference than hers.

Ivy stooped to pick up the pair of secateurs she'd let fall when she'd set off on the trail of the garden's interloper and commenced her original task of cutting flowers for a bundle she let rest in the crook of her arm. She wandered about quietly, choosing the most delicate shades of pink, orange, and yellow: sunrise colours, bright but gentle. A thin, strong blade of grass would do to tie them all together.

"Moss?" She rounded a corner marked out with colored gravel and approached where he was lying in his wicker chair on the lawn, propped up with cushions and dozing in the light of the setting sun. He had his right hand resting on his stomach, what remained of his left arm tucked out of sight inside his jacket, and was smiling in his sleep. She stood beside him and leaned down to whisper in his ear. " _Dad?_ "

He opened his eyes, taking a moment to adjust to the real world. The smile slipped away for a split second, then returned when he realized Ivy was there. "Rosebud," he exclaimed, blinking slowly like the old turtles they sometimes saw on the beach. "Is it that time already?"

"Harley says dinner's ready, so I thought we could do it now, before the sun goes down." She offered her free arm, and Moss grabbed on with a tanned and slightly wrinkled hand, heaving himself to his feet.

"Lead the way." Moss nodded, and they began to walk arm-in-arm. "These are nice," he commented, gesturing to the bouquet Ivy carried.

"I know what she likes." Ivy gave his arm a gentle squeeze.

They passed through another gated entrance to the garden and out onto a long and winding path, threaded with solar-powered torches, that led through the shadows of the trees and opened onto a small hilltop space overlooking the sea. There was a low, curved wooden seat nestled in the grass and flanked with tiare bushes that filled the warm summer evening with their sweet scent.

Ivy helped Moss sit down and laid the bouquet across his lap. "Do you want me to leave you alone?"

In lieu of words, Moss took her hand and guided her down beside him. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the gentle rushing of the waves below and the faraway sound of Lucy's laughter, carried over on the breeze from the house that was tucked away in the grove.

Ivy could picture the rest of them there without even thinking about it. Wade, washing Lucy's face and hands before they ate, smoothing her pigtails and pulling faces to make her laugh; Harley, smiling and singing nonsense tunes, laying dishes and cutlery out on their huge wooden slab of a table on the veranda.

She remembered when they'd built it together, taking the better part of the day with Wade up and down a ladder hammering posts together, mouth full of nails but still talking a mile a minute. Ivy had decorated the roof with palm leaves and trained climbing plants to grow up the posts holding the construction together, while a very pregnant Harley had hung fine net curtains on all sides to keep out the bugs. Moss had mainly sat in a chair with a glass of lemonade and criticized Wade's carpentry, but he'd also offered invaluable advice from the days when he'd had to repair the little Isley house back in Eleven.

"I wish she was here," Moss said suddenly, so quietly Ivy almost didn't catch it.

She glanced at her father's face. He was so much more relaxed now than she'd ever known, but the toll that years of stress and pain had taken would never truly leave his features. His eyes were shining with tears. She squeezed his hand and silently encouraged him to say what was on his mind.

"She would have loved this place," he went on, staring at the horizon. Ivy wondered what he could see out there — or if that was even where he was looking. "All the flowers, the birds, the sunshine. We would have been happy here." He sighed, a long deep sigh that seemed to empty his body until he slumped down where he sat.

Ivy bit her lip. "Are you...not happy?"

"Rosebud, of course I'm happy," Moss assured her. "How could I not be? I've got you back, I've got Harley and Wade taking care of me, and I've got my favorite girl. I just… I miss your mother. It's difficult sometimes, and today… well. Birthdays were never much. It might have been nice to give her something special one day."

"I miss her, too." Ivy had grown a lot closer to her parents over the last five years, even after Yarrow's passing, learning more about them and what she'd not been around for after she'd closed herself off from the world. Her heart ached at the missed opportunity of knowing her mother while she'd been alive.

So much had been taken, by people trying to exert control over her, or things beyond her control entirely. Sometimes it was still a little hard to remember the good that had come from it all.

And then, a voice called through the gathering darkness, and she smiled again.

"Red? Moss? Where are you guys? Dinnah's ready!"

"Shall we?" She offered her arm to Moss again, helping him to his feet. He laid the bouquet on the bench where he'd been sitting, then kissed his fingertips and pressed them against the wood for a moment. When he lifted his face again, there were tear tracks criss-crossing his skin, but he was smiling as they walked into the shade of the green, back to their family.


	79. Epilogue: Sea Foam

**(A/N): And we're back with more epilogues! This time, let's check out how things are going in the former District Four.**

 **Thank you to all the writers who have reviewed and supported each other. We're loving the love going around as we wind down! And thanks to Practically an Avenger: we agree that girls supporting girls is the BEST!**

* * *

 **Epilogue - Sea Foam**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341 and BstnStrng13**

* * *

 **Kaldur Ahm**

 **Arcadia**

* * *

" _I don't feel I've arrived home until I get on the beach. All my life, the theater of the sea has been a very strong thing." -_ Derek Walcott

* * *

It had taken two years before Arthur acknowledged Kaldur's right to sit on the council.

Two years in which Kaldur was on his best behavior. Two years in which his every step and misstep was so scrutinized that there were days he considered simply not rising from the bed and facing his king's penetrating glare.

After that, when Arthur had finally acknowledge something Kaldur said in a council meeting, there had been an audible breath of relief from everyone present — and the air had suddenly shifted from a charged, tense feeling of the moment before lightning strikes to one more akin to the winds on the ocean, still strong but, properly harnessed, more likely to aid in forward progress.

Of course, Kaldur hadn't experienced perfectly smooth sailing in the three years since Arthur accepted him once more as a voice of reason, either.

The dissolution of his engagement to Diana had been a public spectacle, and not one of the parties involved had escaped the lasting harm to their reputations. Even now, five years later, there were some Atlanteans who regarded John with suspicion despite Kaldur's best efforts to reassure them of his honor — and there were yet others who regarded Kaldur as a traitor. Their minds would never be changed, and Kaldur had simply gotten used to the rumors over time — and celebrated with both John and Diana when those voices dropped out of influence and shrank into muttering echoes of once gale force winds.

The vast majority of Arcadia had other things to wag their tongues about now.

Kaldur _had_ warned Bobby that if they were seen together in public, there would be no end to the speculation. And he'd been right, of course. It took absolutely no time for people to start speculating that _this_ was the real reason for the dissolution of the engagement. That he and Diana had fallen prey to pretty blondes from outside their district. That Kaldur never would have been capable of loving _her_ anyway.

That was patently absurd. The problem was not his _preferences_. He had loved Tula once, after all. The problem was simply that he hadn't loved _Diana_. Not in that way. Not as anything but a sister-in-arms. But the drama of the engagement left the people hungry for more scandalous answers. And Kaldur _had_ warned Bobby.

He should have known: Bobby didn't let anything so _petty_ stop him. He had proudly walked the streets with Kaldur's hand in his — or with his arm around Kaldur's waist. He practically dared any onlookers to say something negative about them.

Kaldur loved him for that.

He loved him for so many more reasons, too. He loved his penchant for pranks, especially on anyone who gossiped about the two of them. He loved how quickly he took to the water and how he never seemed bothered even when the water was cold in the winter. He loved how his hair looked in a spring downpour when it was plastered to his face. He loved the sound of his laughter.

Bobby was the light that Kaldur had needed in his life. He was so much like Mera, finding the good in everything, finding joy in each day… Kaldur wouldn't have been able to endure the painstaking work of rebuilding his country and his honor without Bobby by his side.

And he made sure to tell Bobby as much, too. Often. Passionately.

Kaldur had often heard John search for the right words to describe how he loved Diana. He was a romantic at heart and always seemed to find fiery, red words. And that worked for a lover like Diana. She was red and fire and war and heart. But none of those words worked to describe the way Kaldur felt around Bobby. Bobby Drake was a light blue, almost white, the color of the light filtering down through the water. He was gentle, bright, reassuring, ever-present, and _essential_ to life.

Bobby was sunlight, and Kaldur was the sea, and he kept reaching for that light in waves of passion.

On this particular morning, the council had adjourned early. Diana was to be married soon, and she had her own preparations to make. Kaldur would come to see his two friends find happiness — and would be joining Thor in celebrating John's night before his marriage by attempting to get the former minor as inebriated as possible — but for the moment, he took the opportunity to go out to the sea with Bobby instead.

"So, how was the palace intrigue?" Bobby asked when Kaldur caught up to him on the beach. With free travel between the districts, Bobby had found his own niche on the beaches in Arcadia as a lifeguard for visitors who didn't learn to swim at the young age the original Four citizens did. And Kaldur loved him for that, too — for how well he took to water, so much so that he could save others.

"Oh, the usual," Kaldur said.

"That bad?"

Kaldur chuckled as he slid his hand into Bobby's, their fingers weaving together in a pattern of dark and light-pink. For someone who loved the water as much as Bobby did, he seemed to be in a constant state of sunburn. The heat never seemed to agree with him. "And how many lives have you saved today?"

Bobby grinned and shrugged. "A fair few."

"I'd say more than that," Kaldur said. "You always forget to count mine."

Bobby laughed and shook his head, letting go of Kaldur's hand to instead put his arm around Kaldur's waist. "You keep saying things like that, and that's not fair when I don't really have a response."

Kaldur smirked at that, resting one hand on the side of Bobby's face, drinking in his smile and warmth and light. "It's because I love you," he said simply.

Bobby's expression lit up, and he had no other response but to kiss Kaldur.

Kaldur loved that about him, too. He loved that Bobby always looked so _happy_ to hear that he was loved. No matter how many times Kaldur said it, Bobby always looked like the news was fresh, like he was falling in love for the first time all over again.

And yet that same expression often broke Kaldur's heart and left him wondering how many times this beautiful young man had given his heart away and hoped for love and never received it. He knew that Bobby had lost friends in the war — and to the Games before that — and there were yet times when Kaldur would see Bobby and know that he was living in that past.

At times like that, Kaldur wanted to do for Bobby what Bobby had done for him. He wanted to make it better. He wanted Bobby to feel safe.

Kaldur never felt more like he had a purpose than he did when he was with Bobby. And that, more than anything else, was a testament to his feelings when he had spent his life in service to the Sea King and spent his afterlife working with Diana to unite their district. That he could find a purpose and calling higher than either of those was nothing short of astounding.

No words passed between the two of them when they did finally break apart and climbed up the ladder of the wooden tower erected for lifeguards to watch over the visitors. There were plenty who had come for Diana and John's wedding, and so Bobby and a few other lifeguards had their hands full watching out for those to whom the sea was a luxury — and who therefore didn't understand or respect its dangers.

It was an important job, one that Bobby needed to do free of distractions. Yet Kaldur followed him up all the same. He didn't demand his time or attention; he simply wanted to sit in his presence and watch the sea with him.

There was something comforting about watching the waves, as if Kaldur needed that gentle reassurance that nothing had changed in the grand scheme of things. The tides still came in, the sun still stood watch, and the moon still reflected on the surface of the water. The tides of gossip would never last as long as this; the watchful gazes of people would fade with time; the reflection of his and Diana's decision would become less of a stain with each passing year.

He closed his eyes to listen to the waves. That sound had always called him home. He breathed in and out until he felt one with the sea, the timing of his heart and his lungs matching that of the ocean tide.

Finally, he opened his eyes again and looked up at the boy he had met five years ago, the one who had shared cider with him and reminded him of the lesson Mera had tried so often to teach him.

Kaldur was _living_ his life rather than _surviving_ it — and he owed that distinction, that knowledge, that _joy_ to Bobby Drake.

And one day, he hoped, he would find adequate words to express that. Until that time, he supposed, he would have to make do with poetic expressions that rendered Bobby speechless.

After all, as John would say, he _was_ a poet at heart.

* * *

 **John Constantine**

 **Arcadia**

* * *

" _Sometimes you have to grow up before you appreciate how you grew up." Daniel Black_

* * *

"There. I think that does it."

Noh Varr fixed a white rose onto John's lapel, stepped back, and eyed him critically.

"You'll do." He looked pleased.

" _You'll do_ ," the little voice at Noh's side echoed.

John gazed down at the stylist's four-year-old son. He had his father's lanky build and his mother's dark hair. "Thank you, Shogo. I'm glad I have your approval. Maybe _you_ should be my best man, since Thor isn't being much help at the moment." He nodded at the chair in the corner of his bedroom, where Thor slouched lazily.

Shogo giggled.

"I'm helping," Thor protested. "I'm trying to remember where I left the ring."

John stared at him, feeling his heart begin to beat faster, but then shook his head. "Oh no," he said firmly. "No. You're not going to wind me up on my wedding day. You know bloody well where that ring is."

Thor stared back for a moment, then reached into his suit pocket and pulled out the plain gold band that John would soon place on Diana's finger. He gave John a disappointed look. "It used to be easier to get you going, Miner. Too much of my sister's confidence has rubbed off on you. You are less entertaining these days."

John laughed. "You haven't called me _Miner_ in ages."

"I have not thought of it in ages. I suppose it is no longer apt, since Marvel opened its borders and there really isn't a District Twelve any longer. And, at any rate, you have become something of a fixture here in Arcadia — the Queen' faithful consort for the last five years. No one remembers or cares that you are not originally of Four."

Was that true? The waters were certainly smoother than they'd been five years ago, John thought, when Di had broken her engagement to Kaldur Ahm to be with him. Now, his neighbors treated him with warmth, and strangers greeted him with respect. It had taken time and effort to get here, though. Being a good consort was a kind of illusion, he'd learned, not so different from the camouflage John had once used on the battlefield. With practice, he'd become adept at being at Di's side when he needed to be, then fading into the woodwork when it was important she appeared to stand alone as queen. If the two of them regularly discussed affairs of state in the privacy of her chambers, no one but her closest family was aware of that.

It also helped that Di had turned out to be a good queen. Wiser than her years, willing to listen to her advisers, she'd navigated Four through difficult times on the way to building the peace and to forming Arcadia. There had been mistakes and setbacks, but the successes far outweighed them. John doubted anyone would ever appreciate how much she'd agonized over the decision to separate from Marvel. When she'd sent Kaldur to tell the rest of Marvel and at the same time announced it to their people herself, she'd been calm and positive, as if she never had a doubt. And they had trusted her, as they were trusting her now in so many things — including her choice of husband.

"I guess we're growing up," John murmured.

"Speak for yourself, John," Thor said cheerfully. "Even if the thought of marriage makes _you_ very happy, I have no intention of following suit. I plan to extend my misspent youth for a few more years before _I_ become an adult."

John laughed again, knowing Thor's statement wasn't entirely true. Di had put her brother in charge of creating a peacetime army, and he had risen to the duty brilliantly. With Heimdall's help, Thor maintained a well-trained force of Asgardians, Atlanteans and Amazons, willing to work together and ready to protect Arcadia should the need ever arise.

Thor was right about marriage making John happy, though. Five years was a long time to wait, and John was thrilled that he was at last going to be able to call Diana his wife.

As if he could read John's mind, Noh said quietly, "It's almost time. Are you ready?"

John looked in the mirror, trying to see himself as Di would see him. At twenty-three, he had filled out a little, although he supposed he was always going to be on the wiry side. His thick mop of blonde hair was neatly trimmed and combed, and the dark gray suit Noh had designed made him appear surprisingly dignified. He was a far cry from the kid who had stepped off the train five years ago for the Games.

He nodded. "Everything looks good, Noh. I can't thank you and Jubilee enough for coming from the Capitol to help us get ready."

Noh waved an arm. "It's our pleasure. Jubilee has been obsessing over Diana's wedding dress ever since we went on that mission with you years ago. She would have been disappointed if you _didn't_ ask for our help. And, anyway, we appreciate any excuse to spend time at our beach house here. The children love it."

 _Children_ , John thought. Noh and Jubilee had an infant daughter, Merree, in addition to Shogo. Jubilee had Merree with her while she attended to Diana's look for the wedding, so John hadn't had the chance to meet the little girl yet.

"I never knew how many details are involved in a wedding," John said. "And I'm grateful to you, Noh, for keeping track of all of them. Especially since that one—" John gestured at Thor. "—spent most of last night trying to get me drunk."

Thor grinned. "Oh aye, I certainly did. That is the purpose of a bachelor party, John. Didn't you know that? And it wasn't only me. Kaldur and Bobby tried as well."

That was true enough. John recalled the way Kaldur kept topping off his beer mug when he thought John wasn't looking. John, in turn, had waited until Kaldur was occupied by Bobby to empty the mug into a nearby potted plant. John liked Kaldur's friend and hoped their relationship worked out. Kaldur's spirits always seemed lighter when the two of them were together.

He took a last look at his bedroom. Tonight, he would be sleeping someplace even more pleasant and far less lonely. "Shall we go now?"

Thor and Noh exchanged smiles.

"You could at least _pretend_ to be a little nervous, John," Thor admonished. "It is your wedding day. But then, I suppose you and my sister are anxious to get started on your family." He patted Shogo's head as the youngster stepped up to him. "Children are such a blessing. And I've heard Hippolyta say she's expecting grandchildren right away."

John swallowed. "She did?"

"Oh, aye. At least three, I think she said. It's important for a queen to secure the line of succession. An heir and a couple of spares at a minimum. And you wouldn't want to disappoint your mother-in-law."

John felt his first twinge of nerves. He and Di had agreed they could afford to wait a few years before starting a family. They were young, and they had time. But if Hippolyta was expecting it sooner — well, she was a force to be reckoned with.

He bit his lip as he strode out of the bedroom. He and Di could discuss it again, he supposed.

Thor watched him and go and then grinned at Noh. "It is good to see I can _still_ wind him up."

Noh shook his head. "You should be ashamed of yourself. On today of all days."

"He'll figure it out. He's a clever boy, our John. And he is my brother. In truth, he has been for years, but today, it becomes official. As such, it is my duty to give him a little brotherly teasing."

* * *

The wedding ceremony, held near the ocean, passed in a blur for John. Once Diana appeared on Hippolyta's arm, the crowd, the officials, even Hippolyta herself faded into the background, and he was conscious only of Di. She looked amazing. Jubilee had designed a gown that suited her perfectly. Simple yet regal, it was a little bold (it clung to her slender frame and exposed her beautiful shoulders) and a little traditional (they had settled on white). She smiled as he took her hand, and he swore he would hold onto it for the rest of his life.

Afterwards, when the rings were on their fingers and the toasts and speeches had been made, they wandered among the guests, accepting the smiles and well-wishes. There were many. Sif, Heimdall, Kaldur, even Arthur Curry grudgingly shook John's hand. When they got to John's sister, Cheryl, she clung to him fiercely for a moment before turning to kiss Di on the cheek.

"I'm so happy for both of you," she said. "And thank you, John, for the gift. It's very generous of you."

"Gift?" Di asked.

"I gave her my cottage," John explained. "Since Cheryl travels quite a bit these days, I thought it would be a good place for her to stop and catch her breath. And it means we'll have the chance to see each other more often."

Di nodded. "I was wondering what you thought to do with it. I am relieved you don't feel the need to keep the cottage as a — what is it that they call it — a man cave?"

John laughed. "No. I don't feel the need for a man cave. Your duties keep us apart far too often as it is. I have no intention of being anywhere other than at your side, especially when we have the chance to be alone."

She squeezed his hand. "That is good to hear, Husband. Perhaps we might begin that practice now."

Puzzled, he looked into her eyes and was greeted with an expression that had become endearingly familiar. It told John that she was thinking of flouting tradition — just a little. "The celebrations will go on for some time," she explained. "However, I think people will understand if we left to be on our own. We can make our escape now."

John's heart beat a little faster. "Then we will," he agreed, "just as soon as we stop by to see one last group."

"Surely we have shaken every hand there is to shake."

"All but four." When she gave him a puzzled look, he added, "I invited our alliance members from the Games to the wedding. I didn't know what they were up to, and I honestly wasn't sure they'd even want a reminder of those times. But they were part of the journey that brought me to you, and as difficult as that journey was, I'm grateful for it. So, it felt right to have them here. And they came — all of them."

"All of them?"

"Yup. Clark, Kara, Thea and Raven. I think there's a couple of plus-ones in there, too. We are not the only tributes who found love." He grinned cheekily. "Although I suspect they may not have had to work as hard for it as I did."

She pursed her lips and studied him. "Aye, perhaps. But then, the greater the effort, the greater the reward. Your reward will be great indeed."

"I'm counting on it."

She smiled and kissed him breathless.


	80. Epilogue: Double Date

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! Let's check in with some of our fabulous ladies, one of whom just recently went to a wedding in Arcadia ;)**

 **Thanks as always to our writers as we come to a close for the _amazing_ job you all do and for being supportive of us and this story and each other. We love you all to pieces! Thanks also to Slim Summers2002 for being a rock star and letting us know what you like!**

* * *

 **Epilogue: Double Date**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire and tvfan69**

* * *

 **Kara Danvers**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire**

* * *

" _We too can repair our cracks with gold and glow again, crazed by life, and more beautiful than before." - Scott Hastie_

* * *

"Hey, Kara."

Kara cracked one eye open against the bright daylight and cloudless sky overhead. Her fingers were laced together behind her head, cushioning it on the rippling grass. James stood over her, holding out a couple of wildflowers he'd clearly just plucked from the grass nearby.

"Was napping," Kara mumbled, throwing an arm over her eyes but sitting up anyway. "'S one of my days off, and working for Miss Grant, I make it a point to use those precious days each week to _not_ do anything."

James squatted down and offered the flowers again. "Happy anniversary," he said.

Kara eyed the small bouquet. "And you remembered… thirty seconds before you got here and picked them as you were coming to wake me up?" she teased. James looked a little embarrassed, but Kara waved a hand. "I'd forgotten too until you showed up with these."

James fully sat down with a small grunt. Over his head, Kara could see the outline of the Danvers house a couple hundred feet away, the new coat of blue paint still fresh and clean on its sides. Kara leaned over, resting her head on James' shoulder, and let out a tiny, happy sigh.

"What?" James asked with a smile.

"Nothing. I was just thinking about John and Diana's wedding. It was lovely. It's… it's what they deserve. What we deserve. All of us who had to go through… all of that are finding love and happiness, and I think it's the universe making up for what it put us through. You and me, Clark and Lois, Alex and America." Kara giggled. "I think Alex and America have it best. They call all their little missions 'dates.'" Kara sat up a little as she remembered something. "Alex might be coming home today. She called last week and said she was coming home for something. Can't remember if it was today or later this week."

James grinned. "I'm surprised I haven't run into them out on assignment yet. Feels like I'm somewhere new each time. You'll have to get me an interview with them one of these days."

Kara scoffed. "If you think I've going to give an interview like that to the _Planet_ and not CatCo, you've got another think coming." She chuckled. "Although I do wish I was still out in the field as often as you. Don't get me wrong: I was very honored to be made a senior editor, but I miss being a field reporter." Kara sighed. "Oh well. We did just hire a new cub reporter that I think has a ton of potential. Her name is Nia. I think she moved here from… what used to be Three? She's not as into tech, but her boyfriend apparently rivals Winn in terms of tech talent. She's told me a bit about him; he's got this really unique name…" Kara racked her brain. "It's like... uh, Query — Querl, that's it. Querl Dox. She just calls him Brainy, though. Nia's really sweet — totally reminds me of me when I started. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed every day. Anyway, I'm hoping Miss Grant assigns her to me; I might get to go out on some of her first assignments." She lifted her head and gave James a kiss on the cheek. "Maybe I'll even get lucky and get sent cross-media-empire on an assignment with you."

What had once been District Five had produced not one but _two_ of the largest media giants of the country after the revolution. Cat Grant had started CatCo Worldwide Media — a mainly digital news source — and Perry White had founded the Daily Planet, a more traditional newspaper. Kara had already been interning for Cat for over a year when she'd announced the company. As a trusted staff member (and someone with plenty of experience tracking information) Kara had been quickly offered a field reporter position. Many people had come to Five in hopes of working in both power production (which was no longer heavily controlled by the Capitol) and the journalism empires.

"Don't tell Clark, but I'm actually thinking about jumping ship at TDP," James said, a tinge of guilt in his voice. "Photojournalism is great, but I want to do more with design. Perry's got his top team of layout specialists that's harder to break into than an Avenger Games arena, and there's an opening for an art director at CatCo."

Kara clapped her hands delightedly. "You'd be _perfect._ I'll see what kind of good word I can put in if you apply, but I feel like I have a bit of _bias_." Kara giggled. "So who knows how much my opinion on that counts for?"

James pulled her in for a quick kiss. "I'd appreciate it all the same."

Kara went back in for another kiss that wasn't quite as quick, enjoying the feeling of the warm sunlight on her back and James' warm lips against hers.

They sat in the field together for several uninterrupted minutes until there was a shout from the house. Somewhat reluctantly, Kara pulled away from James and squinted through the sunlight to see who was calling her name. Her expression brightened when she made out the figure of Alex standing at the back door, and she climbed quickly to her feet, waving and pulling James with her.

"It's today!" she exclaimed, tugging James toward the house.

"How long has she been gone, again?" James asked as he followed her, stumbling a little.

"Like five _months_ ," Kara replied. "She and America have been out with Sin finding girls across the country that need help. Bad living situations and such; after all, Sin knows… probably more than someone should about that. They've got this huge operation going that's centered in Canada for the rescued girls."

As they got close to the back door, Kara could see the curly hair and signature denim jacket of America behind Alex in the doorway.

"Kara!" Alex swept her sister into a hug. Her hair was shorter and slicked back in a very stylish manner, but her eyes were full of the same delight and warmth. America winked at Kara over Alex's shoulder as Alex pulled away from Kara and held her at arm's length.

"You better not tell me I've grown; it's only been five months," Kara said.

"True, but a lot can change in five months," Alex said, holding up her left hand and wiggling her fingers at Kara — or, more specifically, wiggling the thin silver band that sat on her ring finger.

Kara _squealed_. She grabbed Alex's hand and pulled it forward, inspecting the ring. It was a simple silvery band, inset with three tiny stones: two clear crystals with a pale blue one in between.

" _When?_ " she asked, looking between her sister and America.

"Oh, last week," America said with a laugh. "We'd just gotten back from a collection and had dropped a few girls off at the Watchtower."

"Mrs. Hopkins had just hustled them off to get settled, and she looked over at me, and I looked at her," Alex continued. "And she said 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you,' and I said 'Good, me too.'"

"And then we made out for like an hour," America said with a smirk, swatting Alex playfully on the hip. "And then we figured we should probably make it official, so I went out and got a ring."

"Is that when you called me? Oh! I get to be the maid of honor at the wedding, right?" Kara asked, releasing Alex's hand.

"Oh, I don't know, I figured I'd ask Streaky first," Alex teased, using her foot to nudge the aforementioned cat that had begun twining himself around Alex's ankles, meowing plaintively.

"He's _my_ cat, so you'd have to go through me," Kara shot back, scooping up the tabby and scratching his head. "Yes, Alex is home and she'll make up _all_ the scratchies she missed out on," she cooed to the cat, who settled into her arms and began purring.

"But yes, of _course_ you'll be my maid of honor," Alex said.

"I think I'll ask Billy to be my best man," America mused. "Although he'll probably want to plan the _whole_ thing, so maybe I'll get Teddy to instead…"

"Oh! Oh, we should all go out to lunch together!" Kara exclaimed. "We can celebrate our anniversary and you can celebrate your engagement!"

"Yes. _Perfect_ ," Alex said. "Where're Mom and Dad? I have to tell them too!"

"They're out running errands, I think," Kara said. "They'll be back later, and you can tell them then. You could probably call them, but I think this is an in-person sort of announcement."

Alex giggled. "Imagine getting voicemail. 'Hey Mom, it's Alex, I'm back in Five, and I got engaged; call me back!'"

"I mean, there are probably worse ways to go about it," Kara said. "Let's find someplace to go eat, and you can tell us more about your Girl Squad Adventures."

* * *

They ended up settling on a bistro closer to the center of town for lunch. Orders were placed, and Kara turned to Alex and America.

"Okay, so what's been happening with you guys? What sort of stuff have you seen? What dangers have you faced?"

America laughed. "It's not so exciting as that, _chica_. It's mostly collection. The Watchtower network finds girls in need of our help, and we go and get them. Hardly any danger involved, especially compared to the stuff we used to do."

"That's part of the reason we call them 'dates' instead of 'missions,'" Alex added. "They hardly seem qualified to be called 'missions.' We've had to fight off a couple of pretty skeevy people keeping some girls in bad situations, but they're nothing compared to Hydra agents."

"So how exactly do you find the girls who need help?" James asked. "Do they seek you out, or…"

"Well, there are all kinds of ways we find them," Alex said slowly, turning toward America, who nodded in agreement. "Some of them come to us when it's reported to SHIELD, others SHIELD finds. There's a whole screening system in place that specifically looks for girls that might be at risk."

"And the Watchtower — is it a residence for as long as they need? Do you have a capacity limit?" James asked.

Kara smacked his arm lightly. "Are you interviewing my sister after I told you that any stories about that are _my_ scoops?"

"Maybe?" James grinned sheepishly. "If I move to CatCo, does it really matter?"

"It's still _my_ story," Kara said, though not without a teasing tone in her voice.

"If you two lovebirds can hold off until we get out to dinner, we can tell you all about it," America said. "But if you feel like you absolutely _have_ to catch up with us, we can leave you alone…"

As America snickered, Kara felt her face flush — and James' hand in hers under the table.

* * *

 **Jade Nguyen**

 **Written by tvfan69**

* * *

" _And just like the seasons change, winter into spring, you're bringing new life to your family tree now."_ \- Matthew West, _Family Tree_

* * *

Jade, it seemed, was simply going to have to accept the fact that she would never, no matter what she did, live a life in which she would get a full night's sleep.

And, if she did manage it, she would never wake up of her own accord.

When she was growing up, it was Artemis crying or Lawrence screaming or smashing things in the middle of the night. During her time in the Capitol and the Games, it was Gar, her own nightmares, or the sounds of the arena. Afterwards, at the Howlett Estate, she remembered she got lucky on one night or two, but for most of her life, her nights had been interrupted and her mornings had been unavoidably early.

And today was no exception.

She kept her eyes closed and scrunched them tighter even as a sharp kneecap jabbed into her ribs and a firm hand came down on her shoulder. "Mama?"

She remained perfectly still, hoping that maybe, for once, the tactic would work.

"Mama?"

It didn't.

Jade groaned as the increasingly distressed whines filled her ears, only ceasing when she finally rolled over and stretched her arms over her head.

"What is it, Lian?" she asked with a cracking voice that was still thick with sleep as she blinked her eyes open.

She turned her head to the side, taking note that Roy was still deep in slumber while their two-and-a-half-year-old had apparently decided she was not allowed the same luxury.

Lian, who had only a moment ago been in such a rush to wake her, took her sweet time as she straddled her chubby legs across her stomach and took a seat. Jade grunted with the new weight; Lian was definitely getting too big to be sitting on her like this, but she was struggling to find it in herself to start teaching her that. She reached up and smoothed a hand over her daughter's auburn hair; Lian really was a perfect mix of her and Roy.

"How'd you get up here?" It wasn't unusual for Lian to come sneaking in there in the middle of the night and for her, too tired to deal with bringing her back to bed and attempting to get her to sleep, to simply settle her on the bed and go right back to sleep. Sometimes, it was Roy who dealt with the late-night awakenings, but being the light sleeper she was, Jade always woke up for them, and she had no memory of handling one last night.

"Auny Artmish." Lian garbled out, and Jade smirked. Artemis was one of the few people who could sneak in her room without waking her right away. _She must have just left Lian at the foot of the bed and tiptoed out._

"Is Auntie Artemis awake?" Jade asked, and Lian nodded, her fingers now in her mouth.

Jade smirked and tugged her daughter's hand away from her mouth, and, of course, it took a trail of slimy drool with it. With a groan, Jade sat up and placed her hands under Lian's arms, ready to move her. "I'm gonna get up. Why don't you do me a favor and stick those fingers of yours in your father's ears?"

Lian giggled, the way she always did when she knew she was about to get away with trouble. Jade only smiled and hefted her over to Roy's side of the bed — and then promptly got up and padded out of the room before he could jolt awake.

Once she was downstairs, she found Artemis in the kitchen, sitting at the table and eating a bowl of oatmeal, with Gar sitting across from her.

"Morning, Jade!" Gar said, overly enthusiastic as usual.

Jade hummed and set about making her coffee. "Don't you have stuff for breakfast at your own house?" she asked — not seriously, of course. She never minded waking up to find Gar sitting at her kitchen table, or anywhere else in her house, but she did like to tease him.

"I didn't want to miss Artemis," Gar answered, taking a big spoonful of his oatmeal.

Jade smirked and poured her coffee into her mug, with the sound of footsteps creaking down the stairs in the background as she took a sip. By the time she was done, Roy was standing in the doorway, with Lian bumbling along behind him.

"Somebody has been teaching Lian wet-willies," he grumbled, and Jade smirked wider.

"Oh no; what a nightmare," Jade teased, and Roy rolled his eyes, because, of course, he knew it was her doing. Jade kept on snickering even after Roy gave her a kiss and grabbed the empty pot from Gar's oatmeal out of the sink to fill with new water, rinsing it out but not bothering with soap, since he was only going to use it for the same purpose.

"What time are you leaving, Artemis?" Roy asked.

"Nine," she answered as she lifted Lian onto her lap. "I should get to the academy by this afternoon."

"Any word on other recruits?" Jade asked as she hopped up onto the counter, but Artemis shook her head.

"Not much. I think it's a good-sized class. I'm rooming with this girl Karen. She calls herself Bumblebee, and she says her friend Wally is going into training too — but from what she's told me, he sounds like a jerk."

Jade nodded, and as she did, the sound of the front door opening and closing caught her attention. Soon, Raven walked into the kitchen.

"There you are," Raven said, looking at Gar. "Hank said he needs your help with something; I'm not sure what."

"Just fixing some of the medical equipment," Gar told her with a shrug as he got up from his chair and went to put his bowl and spoon in the sink. "I'm coming; just came over here to say bye to Artemis." He followed this up, of course, by giving Artemis a big hug that had her laughing and clinging equally tightly to him while he lifted her off the ground.

Jade smiled at the sight. For as much as she complained about Gar eating all her food when he had much easier access to Hank's fridge in their home in what used to be the Victor's Village, she wouldn't have things any other way. She was happy he had been so enthusiastic about staying friendly with her — and that he and Raven had become so close to Artemis.

While they were talking, Roy had Lian under control, and she decided to slip away to her room to get dressed. She was still pulling her shirt on when there was a knock at the door before it creaked open and Artemis poked her head inside.

"I'm gonna head out in a few minutes," Artemis said. "Have to go to Hank's and say bye to him."

Jade nodded, a small smile on her face as she got her arms through the short sleeves of her shirt. "You're going to come back at some point, right?"

"Of course — for the holidays." Artemis assured her, not that Jade didn't already know that.

The next few minutes passed by in a heavy silence. Artemis hung in the doorway while Jade started to work on brushing out her thick hair and pulled it back into a ponytail.

"You know, Shayera asked about you," Artemis mumbled at last, and Jade raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?" Jade asked, securing the tie around her hair.

"Yeah, she said that if you want, you could come with me." She stopped, but Jade didn't react or say anything. "I told her no," Artemis went on. "I told her you're happy here and that you have Lian now. She says congratulations."

Okay, at that, Jade had to smirk. "Good," she said, then turned to face her sister. "Look, I'm not the hero type, but SHIELD is going to be lucky to have you."

This time, it was Artemis who smirked, with that knowing look they both knew how to do so very well. It unnerved Jade sometimes how good her sister was at it. "Not the hero type?" she teased. "Jade, nobody in this house, plus a few people outside of it, would even be alive if it wasn't for you."

"Not my fault you guys like getting into trouble."

Artemis snickered, her hands on her hips, before her arms dropped and her expression fell into a frown. "I really do have to go."

Jade nodded, and she looked at her sister with so much pride. It was times like this she really did believe that Lian was going to be just fine, even if she'd been born to parents with so much damage to their names. She'd been raising Artemis even before their parents died, and under the worst of circumstances. But if Artemis could grow up to be so strong and care so much for others that she was willing to head off to the SHIELD training facility, then Jade must have done something right raising her.

"Good luck — and if you see X, tell him his granddaughter says hi."

Artemis snorted. X had been there on a presidential visit not too long ago, and that had only encouraged Lian to keep talking about "Grandpa X."

"Done," Artemis agreed. "Don't get in any trouble while I'm gone?"

This time, it was Jade's turn to snort. "Trouble tends to find me." She stepped forward and hugged Artemis, her arms wrapped tightly around her sister's shoulders. When they pulled apart, Jade couldn't help but notice the confident, excited look in her sister's storm-gray eyes that for so long had been filled with fear. "Take care of yourself."

Artemis nodded. "You too."


	81. Epilogue: All's Well That Ends Well

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We hope you're enjoying the epilogues :) This time, we've got everyone's favorite scientists!**

 **Thanks again to our amazing writers who have continued to support each other. We love you all and can hardly believe this is all coming to an end with these epilogues!**

* * *

 **Epilogue - All's Well that Ends Well**

 **Written by Miran Anders and Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 **Bruce Banner**

 **Written By Miran Anders**

* * *

" _Death cannot stop true love. All it can do is delay it for a while."_ \- The Princess Bride

* * *

The trees overhead covered the man in dappled shadows that shifted gently in the afternoon breeze. He was sitting cross-legged on one of a series of large rocks that bordered a stream marking the far edge of his family's home. His eyes were closed. He was breathing deep, smooth, and even.

It was almost enough to make him forget his behavior earlier in the day.

He felt that the whole thing was his fault; and in very specific ways, it was. He hadn't gotten enough sleep. He'd missed his morning workout and meditation time. He read that stupid article about how reforms in certain districts were moving more slowly than he would have liked. He didn't eat lunch because he was working on finishing something up for Tony, which was fine, but it meant he was getting farther behind on his own work.

So when he walked in the door and Ella asked why he was so late, sounding ever so slightly annoyed — he blew up. Not like he might have once, but still…

* * *

 _"What do you mean, why am I late? I told you_ — _"_

 _"No, Bruce, you didn't tell me. We were going to work on the garden today, remember?"_

 _"Oh, come on! That can't be today… I thought it was this weekend?"_

 _Jarella looked at him levelly, recognizing the signs. "It was supposed to be last weekend. You bailed on that because of work, too."_

 _Bruce felt his heart start pounding. "Seriously? I can't do everything! Clearly, I can't_ — _"_

 _He was interrupted by a small, exceeding clear voice._

 _"Daddy."_

 _He turned and looked into the slightly annoyed eyes of his daughter. A face that was just close enough to looking in a mirror that sometimes, he felt like he was talking to his younger self._

 _"What?" He almost flinched at the harsh sound of his own voice, but his four-year-old was calmer, and her strong, young voice carried a firm ultimatum._

 _"Daddy, go be mad somewhere else."_

 _He stared at her. "Look, Sweetheart_ — _"_

 _His daughter's expression remained firm. "Nope, No sweethearting until you settle down. Go be mad and get it over with."_

 _A snorted laugh made him turn to look at his wife. She shrugged helplessly, and he shook his head. "She's heard that from you. Verbatim," he told her._

 _Jarella walked over and brushed a hand through Bruce's hair. "Well, when she's right, she's right. Go do your thing, and then we can eat. Ash will be waking up soon."_

 _But Bruce was already angrier for how he had sounded than for what made him lose his temper in the first place. "El, I'm sorry_ — _"_

 _Jarella lifted a slender finger. "Ah?" Her gaze went to their little girl. "Tell Daddy the rule, Galen."_

 _Galen nodded seriously. "No sorries until you mean them inside and out." She paused, then added, "But always say sorry if you hurt someone."_

 _Bruce took his wife's hand and spoke softly. "Well, I do mean it." He kissed her palm gently, then squatted to address his daughter. "And I'm sorry I brought mad home with me. I should have left it outside."_

 _Galen smiled and gave him a huge hug. "It's okay, Daddy. Sometimes, it happens." She pulled her head back to look at him. "But hardly ever, and I know you love me." Kissing his cheek, she smiled again. "So hurry up, Aunt Jan is coming!"_

* * *

Bruce was just stretching out of his meditation when he heard a sigh. Opening his eyes, he saw his best friend and, well, boss. At least, it _was_ Tony's facility that he worked in, although he was so autonomous that it felt more like they were partners.

"You done?"

Bruce chuckled and wondered for the hundredth time if Tony would ever have the patience for meditation. "Yeah, just finished up."

"You okay?" Tony's dark eyes showed sincere concern, although his tone sounded more teasing. "El tells me you were pretty worked up. That hasn't happened in a while."

"Yeah, well… " Bruce shrugged. "Long day, didn't eat, not taking care of myself."

"And so it goes."

"Exactly."

Tony sat near him on the rocks, and they listened to the sounds of the water and the wind in the trees. "Gal tells me that you brought mad home with you from work. Did that project I gave you… I mean, you know… I'm just saying, you can say 'no' if I'm throwing too much at you..."

Bruce lifted a palm. "No, it wasn't the project's — or your — fault. Like I said, I wasn't taking care."

"Okay. But still. You gotta speak up, big guy."

"Okay, Tony."

They grinned at each other. The friendship that began in such turmoil had over the years grown into feeling more like brothers. Abruptly, Tony frowned and looked around, as if worried that someone might be listening. "Hey, about Gal… that one is sharp as a tack."

"I know, right? And here we were worried that the revitalization processes might damage reproductive capacity."

Tony chortled. "Not worried enough, as I recall."

Bruce laughed easily. "I have no regrets."

"Absolutely no reason to, obviously."

* * *

 _Galen had been a bit of a surprise to them, but a welcome one. Bruce and Jarella had moved in together, and Bruce found, to his relief, that he was delighted to be a father and quite comfortable with it. He had always worried that his own upbringing would stain his experience, but Jarella was a great mom, and they made wonderful partners, a seamless team._

 _Gal was two years old when Jarella suspiciously took a test_ — _and discovered that they were going to have their son, Asher._

 _And while Bruce had taken the news with calm happiness, Jarella came to SI and proposed marriage, right there in the lab._

 _Bruce had thought she was just coming for lunch. He blinked up from what he was doing and looked both confused and shocked when he said, "Wait. We're not married?"_

 _Stark had laughed himself senseless. Two weeks later, he was their best man._

* * *

Bruce interrupted his thoughts. "You know, speaking of families…"

"I know, I know. I'm getting to it. Promise."

They laughed easily and headed for the house. "You staying for dinner?"

"Yeah, when we walked in, Ash was awake, so you know Jan and Gal had to take over setting the table while Ella got him changed."

"She can't help helping." Bruce gave Tony a sideways look. "Jan's great."

"She's _incredible_."

A voice called from the door: "Uncle Tony! Come see what I built, right now!" Tony looked at Bruce and widened his eyes comically.

"Yes ma'am! On my way." Tony broke into a run, and Bruce smiled.

He paused on the porch to the house that Tony had helped them build and turned to look out across the property. It had everything he ever wanted — trees, water, space… far enough from the city that there was quiet evenings and starlight at night.

The door opened and closed softly behind him, and Jarella wrapped her arms around him from a step above, resting her chin on his shoulder from behind. She kissed his neck, and he put his hands over her arms.

"I am sorry, El."

She smiled. "It was nothing."

"That's the point. It was nothing for me to get worked up about. If I ever _do_ have a reason to be angry, it's certainly not at you. Thanks for knowing me so well." He turned in her embrace, and they kissed, shutting out the sounds of their friends and their children laughing and playing in the house as they connected. "I love you," he whispered when they paused, their foreheads resting against each other.

"I love you, too. C'mon, big guy. Let's go eat."

* * *

 **Tony Stark**

 **Written By Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _It's so great to find that one special person you want to annoy for the rest of your life." – Rita Rudner_

* * *

Stark Industries had been doing nothing but growing more and more successful in the wake of the war that unseated Thanos and put the people of Marvel in the driver's seat.

Yes, Tony and Bruce had spent years working together, but they weren't the only ones. The consolidation of the districts had been an incredible boon for SI. As Tony had hoped, the place was buzzing _all_ the time. New ideas, new _minds_ , new visions of what the future could hold now that there were practically no _limits_ …

Tony smiled to himself on his way to his private lab; it had finally gotten busy enough that he and Bruce both had taken their own spaces for very different reasons. Bruce needed the quiet that solitude and concentration gave him, and Tony needed blaring music … and solitude to help distract his mind enough that he _could_ concentrate on one thing at a time.

It also gave him room to think about everything he had _no_ control over. Like how amazingly brilliant Miles Morales was in just about any project he was given. Or how Riri Williams had stepped up and was making tech that nearly parallelled what Tony himself was doing in his private lab. And Bruce couldn't say enough about Cho's work or how helpful the younger man was to everyone else.

But none of it was quite enough to drown out the fact that, for the first time since he'd been in the Games, Anthony Edward Stark was terrified. He still didn't show it, but that didn't change matters.

He'd put so much thought into this latest endeavor. So much time had been spent, so much effort and _care_ … and though the music was still blaring, Tony's coffee had gone cold long ago. And still, he was only staring at the black velvet box in his hand. He'd had it for _months_ , and Bruce hadn't been subtle once he'd found the diamond engagement ring tucked into Tony's desk next to a handful of spare parts that had been his fourth and fifth re-creations of a more efficient arc reactor.

* * *

 _"Whoa. What's this?" Bruce had pulled out the box and opened it when he was looking for some of the spare gold/titanium alloy wiring. Tony glanced over and was on his feet in moments, snatching the box back from his friend._

 _"Nothing. Not ... Nope."_

 _Bruce laughed. "Sooooo. You're finally going to do it? Oh, how the mighty have fallen…" He slapped Tony on the back, likely a little harder than he realized. "When?"_

 _"Ah, don't know yet," Tony replied, turning the little velvet box over in his hands before shoving it into his jeans pocket._

 _"Waiting for a special occasion?"_

 _Tony hedged, making a noncommittal noise on what his reasoning was as he took a seat at the workbench, though he was still facing Bruce. "Something like that…"_

 _Bruce stared at him, and Tony held his gaze evenly, his chin tipped up_ — _and after a long moment, Bruce's shoulders dropped. "Tony… how long have you had this?"_

 _Tony continued to hold his gaze for only a moment longer before his mouth tightened. Suddenly, his focus shifted to anything except his fellow scientist. "Not long. A while. Maybe a month. Or … five. Six. Who's counting?" He finally made eye contact, and the sad, sympathetic look on Bruce's face had him on the defensive. "What?" An instant later, Tony turned his back to Bruce, kicking himself for leaving the stupid thing in what really had amounted to a common area._

 _"You don't have to be afraid, Tony."_

 _Tony straightened up, his response almost instant. "I'm not. Wait." He spun to face Bruce, his eyes narrowed and one finger pointing his way. "You don't have any room to talk, you know. It's not like_ you _even proposed to Jarella. And it's not like it's Jan's first time around with this whole_ — _" Tony let out a noise of frustration and tossed his hands up as he got to his feet and started to pace._

 _The truth was that even though all this time had passed, and Jan had divorced Hank Pym, it hadn't stopped Hank from occasionally reaching out to Jan and trying to win her back. And every time he did, Jan would get a haunted, hollow sort of expression that left Tony holding his breath._

 _Bruce held up his hands before Tony could get more upset. "Fair enough… But I knew I wasn't going anywhere._ She _knew I wasn't going anywhere. We had Galen, for God's sake." He shook his head with a disparaging laugh. "And I swear, I_ really _thought we had already… well. Kids'll do that. Sleep deprivation does strange things." And then, sounding nearly defensive, he added, "And I did give her a ring." Everyone in the lab had seen the beautiful emerald and gold ring that he had designed for her._

 _"Sure, a month after_ she _proposed," Tony pointed out as he sat back down_

 _Bruce grinned. "Hey, I had to get the design right for my_ stylist wife. _Giving it to her at the wedding was a nice touch, I thought. Besides, if I didn't want someone strong and independent, who knew what she wanted, I never would have gotten together with Jarella." His eyes sparkled, as they always did when he spoke of his wife. "So what's the problem, Tony?"_

 _Tony crossed his arms and leaned back against his bench. "I don't know what you're talking about. No problems here. Just … it'll come to me."_

 _Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Are you thinking there's something better? A girlfriend Mach II?"_

 _"Not what I said or even vaguely implied. Jan knows I love her_ — _" He blinked thoughtfully at his own admission, working his jaw as he uncrossed his arms and considered the diamond ring that suddenly felt much heavier in his pocket._

 _Bruce put a hand on Tony's shoulder with a gentle smile. "Then tell her." Smirking, he added, "Don't be an idiot."_

" _Just trying to keep from pissing her off," Tony said, running a hand over his face. "I mean … look at how nuts Pepper was. I'd like to know for sure that my stupid, distracted self isn't enough to send any girl I fall for into murderous plotting." He pointed at Bruce with an almost open hand. "And before you say it, she was the one that twisted the numbers to get me_ into _the Games so she could kill me. Just wish I would have known the whole story_ before _the revolution kicked off."_

 _"She was… different, alright." Bruce shook his head, mystified. "Still, it makes you wonder, doesn't it? I mean, if you weren't in the Games, if we weren't… not only wouldn't we be standing here, but Marvel would still be under Thanos." Tony gave him a look that he hoped made it very clear that philosophy was not on the table right now, and Bruce grinned. "I guess everything works out the way it's supposed to."_

" _Here's hoping." Tony spun away from Bruce, his hands on his hips as he looked over the workbench. "Right. Well. Things to do…subjects to change. You know."_

* * *

So Tony really did _try_ to think of something else to occupy his time. But the tech and gadgets … they really couldn't hold his attention. Once again, he found himself studying the little velvet box while he was alone in his lab.

"Hey, handsome, are you still tinkering?" Jan's voice rang out clean and clear even over the music — which had lowered appropriately on her arrival. There were only two people that had free access to Tony's lab. Bruce Banner was one … and Janet Van Dyne was the other.

"Hey, Jan," Tony called out, quickly shoving the velvet box into his pocket before he put on a pleasant smile and spun on his seat to face her — the picture perfect example of cool. "Just finishing up."

The scene had played out just like this on more occasions than Tony could count. A quick once-over as Jan walked up tipped him off that at least he hadn't forgotten any _big_ parties they were both scheduled to attend. While the two of them had done a lot of work at SI, Jan had carved out a little side business that had taken the country by storm. No one had expected a former lab-rat to be such a prolific fashionista, after all. But no fancy dress on the wonderful Wasp meant no need for Tony to worry about a crowd.

Jan grinned and rested one hand on his shoulder before she leaned in to steal a kiss that had Tony's heart picking up speed. "So, what's the big plan? Are we going out to the beach? Spending more time with Bruce and Ella and the kids? Or _maybe_... "

"How about a night in?" Tony said, almost cutting her off if not for the fact that Jan had been drawing it out.

"Read my mind," Jan said with a nod as Tony got to his feet and offered her his arm.

* * *

After a night spent watching movies in their pajamas and sharing popcorn on the couch, Tony was up with the sun and convinced that it was now or never.

He just needed to do something with his hands until he could figure out _how_ to ask her. He'd heard about how everyone from his Games _so far_ had done it. Or most of them. And while Bruce getting proposed _to_ by Jarella had been the best thing for Tony's entertainment for _weeks_ , it didn't quite have that same nostalgic heart-on-the-sleeve feeling of a traditional proposal.

But then again, that wasn't exactly his style, either.

And while he devised for the seven hundredth time one of the many, many ways that he could propose, he started to cook. Nothing fancy — especially since Tony only knew how to make a few things. It was something to keep his hands busy without leaving his apartment and going to the lab. It wasn't a _gesture_ … not really.

And he didn't even consider what he was doing until Jan joined him for breakfast in her usual chipper mood. The two of them were sitting by the window looking out at the view of the Pacific Ocean when Tony realized how contented and happy she looked. And he couldn't stop the little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth as he watched her sip her orange juice.

Before he knew what he was doing, the ring box was in his hand — and Jan had turned his way as he extended it to her across the table. She looked surprised, her gaze lingering on the box for a moment before she looked up at him, lips parted and eyes wide.

"Jan, what can I say? You stung me," Tony said, smirking crookedly. His mouth was dry, even though he couldn't stop himself from speaking as he opened the box. It was all bubbling up before he could _think_ to slow it down, but he was already halfway there … may as well keep going. "Would you marry me and do this every morning?" He tipped his head toward the ocean. "And … fuzzy slipper sleepovers every night, of course."

She was staring at him wide-eyed, her usual cheerful grin gone entirely. But even as she paused, Tony couldn't help but take in every detail. Her short, pixie-like cut didn't have a hair out of place, and though Jan would argue it, she didn't _need_ the makeup that she hadn't put on yet. The blush in her cheeks was just a bit redder than her usual tones, and her lips were parted into an almost perfect 'o'. Her hand hovered halfway to her heart, and Tony suddenly couldn't tell if she was excited — or horrified.

When Jan didn't react more than to stare back in open shock, Tony quickly tried to cover his tracks and brush it under the rug. "Think it over! Take your time. You don't have to answer right away." His voice dropped to almost a breath as he finished to himself. "Or … at all. It's fine." If the way his heart had been pounding before had been uncomfortable, the sensation of the blood rushing out of his face was a thousand times worse. He'd clearly made a _severe_ miscalculation somewhere … but he could fix this. He had to. She was just too important to lose. _Damnit, what a time to start to sympathize with Hank Pym._

He tapped his fingers on the table twice in rapid succession, his foot jiggling — hidden under the table — and just as Tony was ready to flee the scene and find something — _anything_ — to do, Jan reached over to cover his hand. "I'd _love_ to."


	82. Epilogue: Brotherhood and Sisterhood

**(A/N): Happy Tuesday! We're in our final two weeks of this story, and we won't lie: all the writers are getting a little emotional about it (just look in the reviews!) This time, let's say goodbye to some of our favorite troublemakers from Six, shall we?**

 **Thanks as always to our writers for being amazing, supportive, and lovely to work with. Thanks to Practically an Avenger for your amazing marathon reviews and gushing and to Slim Summers2002 for rocking our review section all the time. You guys really are amazing!**

* * *

 **Epilogue - Brotherhood and Sisterhood**

 **Written by Silmarilz1701 and savy160**

* * *

 **Sinthea Schmidt**

 **Written By Silmarilz1701**

* * *

" _So, lock the door, shed a tear, turn around and look for the new door that's opened." -Lee Goff_

* * *

If she closed her eyes, she could still smell the flames. The stench of seared flesh and melting buildings was far from exclusive to Six. She'd smelled it in the Capitol when they'd run missions for Hydra. The scent had wafted from Viper's fallen fortress. Even in their infiltration of the Red Skull's base there in Six, the telltale sign of explosives and flames followed her.

Now, years later, the wrought iron bars of the fence into the Victors' Village still stood, even if what it had once contained lay in ruins. The citizens of Six had torn it to shreds. Eight houses once stood in a circle. At the center, a crowned lion statue had its head half missing. Its once pristine white body now sat coated in caked-on ash and dirt.

Sinthea stood alone. Her black trench coat fluttered behind her in the wind. Only a few strands of her flaming red hair escaped the hood she wore. Because of the gale surrounding her, the sounds of the world were drowned out. She reached out with her right hand. As she went to grab the gate, she stopped.

Her hand trembled. Quickly, she hid it. Anger flared up inside her, and heat flushed to her face. Grabbing the gate by her left hand, she thrust it open. The hinges screeched. After the initial sacking and destruction of the Village, the Red Skull's abode had become a forbidden place for teenagers and riffraff. Ghost stories even circulated among the youth.

Sin didn't believe in ghosts. She had seen worse than stories of phantoms come to steal children in the night. Five years had passed since she'd lived the horrors of the Revolution, and six since she'd been slaughtered for the sport of the Capitolites.

As the iron gate slammed shut behind her, she walked closer to the paved center of the village. Sin closed her eyes again. A deep fury boiled up inside her. Hatred had been a constant companion for her since childhood. Agent Melinda May and Natasha had both helped her learn to harness the fury in less violent ways. With her right hand barely able to make a fist and her left far from perfect, they'd had to resort to other methods.

Sin had scoffed at May's tai chi and relaxation techniques. Nevertheless, as she and May had begun receiving girls for their recovery and training program, it had become necessary to relieve stress.

After the revolution, the nightmares had started. Her dreams had often been filled with rushing water even back then. Now, the screeching of dragging metal and sharp screams infected her dreams, too. Every night, she felt like she was drowning. Sinthea no longer had missions to distract her.

She turned to the right of the center courtyard. Johann Schmidt's mansion loomed up before her, intimidating, even broken as it was. She stepped forward.

There was no door. Sinthea walked right into the dilapidated hallway. Six, while flourishing everywhere else, had left the remnants of the Games to rot.

 _Not Six_ , she reminded herself. The districts had been disbanded after the revolution. Still, Sin found it difficult to adjust.

She had no place in this new Marvel. Not here, not in what had been District Six. Everything she remembered was gone: the gangs, the slums, the pathetic excuse for schools. All that had been replaced by new facilities and thousands of jobs.

A floorboard creaked beneath her boot as she rounded a corner. The mansion had been stripped to its bones. As much as she dismissed the idea of ghosts, the dark, musty corridors conjured up images of her estranged father. That was scarier than any poltergeist.

She found the sitting room where she'd met with him. His decaying red armchair hadn't been touched. Her breath hitched. The Games suddenly felt like yesterday: the Reaping, the training, the blood and death. She couldn't breathe. Both her hands trembled, this time from fear, not nerve damage.

Sin turned. She'd seen enough. Her morbid curiosity, which had brought her here, had reached its limit. Quickly, she ran from the mansion.

The wind hit her face hard. It stopped her breathing for a moment. Her eyes watered. With a small scream of anger, Sin kicked a dirty tennis ball as hard as she could.

Suddenly, she saw movement to her left. Two people wearing various amounts of black clothes caught her eye. She slowed her breath and forced herself to calm down.

The taller of the two strangers, a man, argued with the young woman at his side. Neither noticed Sin standing quietly.

"You should've known better than to dare her!"

"Hey how was I supposed to know she would sneak in here?"

"Use your brain, Robbie. Or whatever is in your thick skull. Gabe knew!"

"Yeah, well, Gabe spent more time in school than me."

Sin stepped toward them. With a quick nod, she folded her arms across her chest. "Who are you looking for?" Then, she froze as realization dawned. "Robbie Reyes?"

He looked over. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Sin Schmidt?"

"From the war?" The girl looked her up and down. "Didn't you kill the Red Skull?"

Robbie nodded. "That she did. Being a good little SHIELD agent. I never would've expected that from you, Sin."

Her face flushed in anger. She shook her head immediately. "I didn't kill him for SHIELD."

"So it was vengeance, eh, _chica_?" Robbie nodded. After a moment of silence, he gestured to his companion. "Nico Minoru, meet Sinthea Schmidt."

"Have you seen a nine year old girl running around here? Pink hat, brown hair. Probably getting into trouble?"

"No."

Nico sighed. With a quick glare at Robbie, she moved away and started searching through the Victors' Village on her own. Sin watched her walk away.

"So, you came back? Canada not fun enough?" Robbie started swinging a short broken chain that he kept his house key on. The absent-minded movements kept Sin's attention for a moment. But Robbie smirked. "Never would've pinned you for a rescuing type. SHIELD made you soft."

Sin rolled her eyes. "If you think rescuing vulnerable young girls from abuse is soft, I might have to beat you up again. It's been a while since you last had my fist in your face."

"I see you haven't lost any of your charm," he quipped back. "I seem to recall that temper got you into trouble back in school."

"Oh, and your spirit of vengeance didn't? You were always going after people," said Sin. She folded her arms and shook her head.

Robbie just smirked. The clicking of his chain link keychain stopped as they both were distracted by a returning Nico. Next to her, a young girl trailed, pouting.

"Come on; we need to get Molly home." Nico pushed the girl forward.

"You just want to get back to Karolina," argued Robbie. "Mol, come here."

"I would've come back by sundown," she muttered, dragging her feet. Molly stopped next to Robbie. She played with the tassel of her pink hat.

Robbie nodded to Sinthea. "Molly, this is Sin Schmidt. She was one of the heroes of the revolution."

Molly grinned. "Oh wow. You were in the Games, weren't you? I don't remember them much, but I've heard about you!" She turned to Robbie. "How do you know her?"

"We went to school together," Sin said quickly. "He was always two steps behind me and my best friend, always hoping to catch up to us. He tried."

" _Cabrón_ ," muttered Robbie.

Molly turned to Robbie. The grin on her face just continued to grow. "Wow, you went to school with Sin Schmidt!"

Sinthea laughed at her enthusiasm. Nico insisted they get Molly home, saying that the broken Victors' Village was no place for her. The two girls turned and left, leaving Sin and Robbie staring after them.

"What ever happened to Rumlow?" Robbie asked after a moment. "One minute, he was running the Serpent Squad — next I know, he's gone. I only knew he disappeared 'cause I was keeping tabs on all the gangs."

Sin's smile dropped. The memory of Red Skull with a bullet hole in his forehead had been ingrained long ago. With it lay the emotional toll that losing Crossbones had caused. Suddenly, the wind felt colder. "Red Skull killed him."

"Least you settled that score."

"Settling that score is what got him killed."

Robbie didn't respond. A small raindrop plopped onto his black and white leather jacket. He looked up. "Come on. You should see what Six transformed into." He gestured toward the gate.

With a frown, she glanced between the gate and the Red Skull's house. "I should get back to my transport. My team at the training center is expecting me back."

"Ah come on, _chica_. You gotta at least see the new mechanical district. This city has started flourishing!"

Sin muttered under her breath. With a quick nod, she followed Robbie out of the dilapidated village. A gentle misting cooled the air. But despite the gray weather, the city seemed to be in high spirits. Before long, Sin could hear children laughing. To her surprise, where she recalled an old factory standing, there now stood a park and a playground.

"Nice, isn't it?" Robbie started swinging his keychain again. "The only reminder that the Games had ever happened is that Village back there."

"Those kids never knew that world," she murmured.

"Don't get soft on me," countered Robbie. "There's still problems. The Serpent Squad is always hoping to come back."

"Who stopped them before?"

Robbie smirked. "Let's just say they got what was coming to 'em."

"And you saw they got it?"

"I never said that. I just fix cars."

Sin looked at him, unconvinced. "Right."

"You should see the Charger. Even Gabe's jealous."

"I'll stick to fixing humans, not cars."

As the rain worsened, they ducked into a café near the city center. Sinthea took a deep breath of the air. It smelled like coffee beans. The smell reminded her of Kate. She smiled.

They both ordered drinks. They were nearly alone in the coffee shop, so it didn't take long for their drinks to be ready. Soon enough, a worker called their names.

"Weren't you right-handed?" Robbie asked in surprise as she grabbed the drink with her left.

Sin scowled. As they sat down at a table near the windows, she uncovered her right. Her hand shook as she tried to pick up a napkin. "Not all the casualties of the war ended up dead."

"Was it worth it, for you?"

Sin took a sip of her espresso. In the past year, as the nightmares worsened, she'd often asked herself that question. Was it worth it? The screams in her sleep, the endless dreams of drowning. It did bring her some comfort to see the girls in her program get stronger every day, but every time she saw her hands, the memories came back. Was it worth it?

She shook her head. "I don't know."

"Maybe if you spent more time around Marvel, you'd feel better about it. There are still plenty of fights to be won, yeah. But look at this place." He gestured through the window. People ducked under store fronts, and some children ran in the puddles. "We won the big one."

"I've been around Marvel—"

"Rescuing kids. I know, I know. And yet you've been avoiding this place." Robbie leaned back in his chair. "I sold my soul to the devil during the war. I did terrible things."

"To protect the people," Sin reminded him.

Robbie shrugged. "I don't regret it at all. They got what they deserved. But that doesn't mean I don't get affected by being here. But do you let the memories stop you, _chica_? Or does it feed your determination?"

"I will never stop my missions," she bit back.

Robbie nodded. "Good. Then stop in our little city more often. Stop sending your lackies; do it yourself." He grinned at her indignant expression. "You've got the devil inside you too. You always have. You don't need two working hands to make people pay for their sins." With a last sip of his coffee, Robbie stood and tapped the table a few times. "Let me know when you're back in town. I might have a few leads for you."

"What if I don't want to come back?"

"You will. I know you, Sinthea. You'll be back." He gestured outside again. The rain had stopped. "You might enjoy rescuing those girls across the country. It's good work. Important work. But I know you never forget who made 'em suffer in the first place."

Sin watched him leave. The trembling in her left hand, which had been nearly constant since returning, had stopped. Robbie was right. Some part of her, a part she had tried to bury and destroy, was still tied to what was District Six. For five years, she had hid from her pain. For five years, she'd focused on everywhere but there. For five years, she'd allowed fear and trauma to guide her mission.

As she downed the last bit of her drink, she made up her mind. The recovery center wouldn't miss her for a few weeks. She could afford a vacation. She had earned a vacation. Meditation could only do so much for her. Maybe it was time to tap into her spirit of vengeance again. But this time? This time, she'd be rescuing the girls of her former home. This time, she'd be inflicting pain on the guilty, not on the innocent. That was something to look forward to.

* * *

 **Timothy Drake**

 **Written By savy160**

* * *

 _"I'm in Robin mode before I even know it. I can't save everyone no matter how much I wish I could." – Tim Drake in Red Robin_

 _"Maybe life isn't about avoiding the bruises. Maybe it's about collecting the scars to prove we showed up for it." - Unknown_

* * *

"It's like being completely alone. Everyone is so wrapped up in their own little world, they don't even notice you. It's as if they don't even know what day it is. I'm not even sure if they know what happened five years ago."

"But I do."

Timothy Drake cleared the debris away from the grave. The previous night's storm had been horrific and caused a lot of damage, but he had wanted to make the trek anyway. With free travel between the old districts, the old District Six was only a train ride away if he wanted to see where Jason's _first_ body lay.

Tim, the grave's only regular visitor, paused when a small crack was apparent on the smooth marble. He had worked so hard to prepare the damaged grave the week before, but now he saw that he'd overlooked a small scuff. He traced the jagged crack with his finger and hastily pulled away as a sharp edge on the marble sliced into him. A single drop of crimson fell into the crack and soaked into the white stone.

Tim cursed before wiping the blood on his jeans and placed flowers on the freshly cleaned grave. He sighed as he sat cross-legged on the grass and stared at the headstone. He absentmindedly pulled at the grass and reread the name on the headstone for the thousandth time.

"Dick and Kory were so wrapped up in each other that they didn't even notice as I slipped past them. She had another false start, you know. Alfred was busy making breakfast. Heaven forbid that he look away for one second or the pancakes might burn. It had to be perfect as always. But that's okay, because Alfred is perfect. Helena noticed, but she didn't _say_ anything. She's just too much like Bruce … and Bruce… Who even _knows_ what Bruce does in his spare time?"

Tim paused as he waited for a response that would never come.

"But it doesn't matter anymore. They're my family now. Alfred is the grandfather I've always wanted, and Bruce is the father I need, and Helena is the best big sister I could imagine, and Dick… is my brother. But he's not you, Big Red. It's not fair."

He tried to hold his tears back but couldn't. Slowly, they fell and splattered against the marble beneath him. It wasn't fair! _Why_?

"I'm so sorry, Jay. It's all my fault. You died because of me. You died twice because of me. It's all my fault, and I'm so sorry. I wanted to bring you back again. I tried to figure the process out, but even if I had someone that could help me with the equipment ... I know it's not what you would have wanted. Alfred keeps telling me that I need to move on, that I need to let you go and just live my life… He's right, and I'm sorry."

Tim slowly swiped away at the tears with the back of his hand before laying the dagger on the grave that his brother had given him so many years before.

"I'm sorry, but I have to let you go… You'll always be my brother, but I have to be me now. They said I can join SHIELD… A part of me wants to so I can help people, but the other part of me is afraid. I'm not you, and I never will be. Hell, I'm only 5'5"! But I'm going to try. I'm going to make you proud."

"I think Jason already was proud of you, son."

Tim nearly jumped out of his skin as he glanced behind him to see Bruce standing there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets. Tim returned his attention to the grave before mumbling, "I watched him die twice, Bruce."

Bruce rested his hand on Tim's shoulder. He didn't dare to turn around in fear of crying again. Words of comfort weren't exactly Bruce's thing. Just physically being there was enough for Tim, though.

"Tim, just let yourself feel whatever you need to feel, even if it hurts."

That's when Tim broke down and cried. All the years of abuse and loss and pain left him numb as he crumpled onto the grave, leaving Bruce to collect the pieces.

Bruce eventually helped Tim up to his feet and paused to momentarily gaze at the monument that had been erected in all of the tribute cemeteries around the country listing off the dead and missing from the war. Bruce softly spoke: "That's why we all hold onto life so hard. Even the dead. We're all just afraid of the unknown. We're afraid to move on, but we have to. We have no other choice. We either move on or we stop living. "

Tim merely nodded before he allowed himself to be led back toward the car Bruce had waiting to take them home. Maybe he'd join SHIELD after all or cure cancer or spend the rest of his life at home with his third family. He had no idea which path to take. The future could never be certain, and that was part of what made it worth living.

"Bruce? Would you have adopted Jason too?"

"Yes. I would have."

Tim gave the grave one final glance. He could imagine Jason leaning against the tombstone with that shit-eating grin plastered across his face, a cigarette between his fingertips, wearing that leather jacket that was still too big to fit Tim.


	83. Epilogue: Kute

**(A/N): Happy Friday! We hope you're looking ahead at an amazing weekend, and here's some serious fluff to get you there!**

 **Thanks as always to our amazing writers. It's bittersweet to see this come to an end, but we're so grateful for everything you've done.**

* * *

 **Epilogue - Kute**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341 and Ophelia Claire**

* * *

 **Kate Bishop**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Make peace with your broken pieces." - Unknown_

* * *

After the war ended, Kate had actually been busier than she could ever remember being — and she loved it.

There was so much that she could _do_ , so many projects that she could get her hands in. Sin and her quest to rescue at-risk girls. Scott and Barbara and their quest to turn Logan's old home into a sanctuary. The general cleanup that came from countries rebuilding themselves after war.

Not to mention how busy she was with her social life. After a year in Hydra being told she _couldn't_ make friends, Kate found herself pretty well surrounded by people who cared about her and who she cared about. Kurt was there. They could visit Logan in SHIELD when the Watchtower Project or the Sisterhood ended up working with SHIELD, too. They saw Peter and Gwen often. Kate's friends from Twelve all either lived close by or, in America's case, teamed up with the Sisterhood often enough that it didn't matter where she put down her roots.

And then there were the kids in the Watchtower. The name had been Barbara's idea, and the project had been Scott's brainchild. Seeing as Kate had wanted to stay in Seven with Kurt anyway, she was _more_ than willing to spend her time at home making a difference. She could lend her strength to other people so they could get the kind of help they needed, the help that had put her back on her feet. Sure, not everyone had been kidnapped by Hydra or anything, but there were plenty of victims of war, and kids with no place to go found their way to the old Howlett Estate one by one until there was practically an army in the estate.

And somehow, helping those kids? Kate felt more like herself than she had in a long time.

After Charles had won his bid for the presidency, it had taken a little while for Kate to get used to not being able to call him up for advice or to borrow his calm if she thought she was slipping. He'd always picked up the phone on the campaign trail. But once Betsy Braddock had really shown her mettle at the Watchtower, Kate had warmed up to her too — and she and Betsy were now what the youngest kids affectionately called the "Purple Twins," an unstoppable duo of support for the traumatized cases.

Betsy was, surprisingly, quite the therapist. And Kate was a good shoulder to cry on — and a voice of encouragement when a lot of kids felt, like she had, like they were never going to be the same again.

The war had really done a number on a _lot_ of people. But Kate knew from experience that it helped not to feel alone. So that's what she tried to give these kids. Someone they knew wouldn't leave them alone.

Five years into the project, and Kate was happy to say that the kids weren't just surviving. They were _thriving_. And she got to be part of that.

Even better, she got to be a part of it with Kurt right there beside her.

Kate still got a thrill down her spine every time she told Kurt that she loved him. It had taken so long for her to _believe_ it that every new time she said it felt like it was something stolen, something nearly sacred. She savored every single "I love you" and saved them up to remember when the world seemed like it was crashing down on her head.

That still happened sometimes. There were nights that Kate didn't sleep, nights when she could remember everything that had happened with Hydra, with Kilgrave. Or in Twelve. Or the threats Creed made.

Nights like that, she was glad that she had Kurt.

It had taken her a long time to get used to the idea of sleeping _with_ Kurt, even if it helped the nightmares. They'd shared a room for a while, but they had different beds. And then after everyone moved out of the Howlett Estate and Scott started working with the people who had stayed behind to volunteer, the rooms with two beds went to the kids. The staff — Kate couldn't believe she was considered _staff_ — had a wing to themselves, with rooms with queen and king beds instead of smaller beds and bunk beds like the kids had.

Kurt had been a perfect gentleman, of course. Never _tried_ anything. Not when he knew what Kate had been through. And that probably helped matters. Waking up panicked with someone next to her was easier when that someone made it a point to get _out_ of the bed and back away whenever Kate was having a hard time breathing through a panic attack — and that meant Kate didn't mind sharing a bed on the nights she _didn't_ have a panic attack.

Those attacks were getting less frequent. And the nights when she and Kurt were brave enough to try more than just sharing the covers were getting _more_ frequent.

Those two things might _maybe_ have been related.

So yeah, things were looking up for Kate in a way they hadn't in what felt like _way_ too long a time. Sure, she hadn't quite wrapped her head around being the _responsible adult_ in a pack of roaming orphans and kids who had barely survived the war, but hey, she'd always said she wanted to help people.

Still, there were times that Kate wanted to get away from the crowd and be by herself, just to check and make sure she was all still there — and just to remind herself how _far_ she'd come. Plus, with her commitments to Scott, Sin, and the kids, the chance to climb a tree and be _quiet_ was surprisingly exquisite.

In about half an hour, she had to head back to the Watchtower. A few of the kids had asked her if she would teach them how to shoot a bow and arrow like she had done in the Games, and Kate couldn't possibly turn them down, so she'd agreed… And that had turned into a whole flock of little wannabe Hawkeyes in an archery class the kids took.

Actually, there were a few different archery classes going now. A beginners class that any of the kids could join as long as they could prove they were mature enough _not_ to shoot at each other and to treat their bows with respect — and a more advanced class for the kids who wanted to do more than just see if they could hit a target.

The advanced class was later in the afternoon, which meant Kate had time to gather her thoughts in her favorite climbing tree.

"I thought I might find you up here."

Kate smiled but didn't move from where she was resting, watching Kurt as he climbed up to join her. That was part of why she liked this particular tree -—there were a couple branches at about the same height as each other, so Kate could take friends up there and hang out in the branches. It was a way to escape the world without having to escape the people she loved.

"How'd the meeting with Scott go?" Kate asked once Kurt was settled in.

Kurt broke into a crooked grin. " _Very_ well."

Kate replied with a grin of her own. She knew that Scott and Barbara had been engaged for about a year now, but neither of them _slowed down_ long enough to actually hash out the details of a wedding. And Kurt had lost his patience with them and told them that he'd learn how to become an officiant if it would hurry them along.

He probably hadn't expected them to take him up on it.

Kate was glad they had, though. She loved seeing how excited Kurt was over this position, and she loved watching him grin to himself over every single new development.

Mostly, she loved to watch Kurt smile.

"So, did they actually pick out a date yet?" Kate asked, her hands behind her head as she watched Kurt. Her _boyfriend_.

He was so ridiculously cute when he smiled.

Kurt looked up and caught her grinning at him and blushed — which was also so ridiculously cute — and then shook his head. "No, but I went into town myself to get all the necessary legal work done for me and for them, so if they can take _five seconds_ out of their day to sign papers—"

Kate groaned. "Ohmigosh. They're _never getting married_."

Kurt burst out laughing, and Kate grinned that much wider. "You're giving up hope in them already?"

"They move _so slow_. They're always all caught up in their own little missions, out to save the world, no time for slowing down and being _people_." Kate rolled her eyes and made a face. "No thank you. That's not the life for me."

Kurt smiled up at her. "And what is the life for you?"

Kate grinned and clamored down the tree until she was sharing a branch with Kurt, then leaned over to steal a kiss that went on exactly as long as they both wanted it to, until he had his hands in her hair and he'd forgotten what question he'd asked her.

"This," she said softly. "This is exactly the life I want."

* * *

 **Kurt Wagner**

 **Written by Ophelia Claire**

* * *

 _You, you light up in the dark_

 _You're the glow in a priceless work of art_

 _I see, I see a shining star_

 _You're the light in my window from afar_

 _And don't you forget_

 _The only thing that matters is your heartbeat going strong_

 _Oh, don't you forget_

 _That nothing else can matter cause you know where I belong_

"Take Me Home"

Pentatonix

* * *

"This," Kate said softly. "This is exactly the life I want."

Kurt could feel the small box in his pocket pressing against his leg. _I'm here!_ it seemed to say. _I'm ready! You're ready!_ It felt like it was connected directly to his heart, tugging on it each time it moved in his pocket. _Just do it!_

He was glad his hands were buried in Kate's hair; otherwise, they would have been shaking.

All that he'd done in his life — all the things he'd faced down and come out on top of — this was somehow scarier than all of them. It really shouldn't have been — he loved Kate, and she loved him. They wanted to spend their lives together; that much was clear to both of them. He had watched her go through hell and come out the other side triumphant and stronger. She had faced down the worst parts of humanity and was thriving.

But a small part of him, deep down, still feared she would say no.

Or — not that she'd say no, necessarily — he would be perfectly fine with that.

That tiny part of his brain that still lived in darkness, the part that he tried so hard to quell with happiness and love and friendship, just kept popping up with terrible ideas of what could go wrong.

 _What if proposing triggers her PTSD? What if the idea of spending her life so close to someone_ —

No.

No. If the past five years had proved anything, it was that being with Kurt made her happier than she'd ever been in her life, and the feeling was mutual. Kurt had spent those five years learning everything that could and still did trigger Kate, and the list had been growing steadily shorter.

 _No_ , he told himself. _This is going to be okay, but you have to do it now._

His discomforting thought must have been more visible on his face than he realized, because when Kate pulled away from the kiss they were sharing, she looked concerned.

"Kurt?" She placed a gentle hand on his face. "You okay?"

"I — ah — _liebling_ , would you come down with me for a moment?" Kurt said, trying to keep his voice level. Kate looked puzzled but nodded.

"Yeah; is everything all right? You look — I don't even know. Like you're on the verge of panicking. And believe me, I know what that looks like."

"Just humor me for a moment, Kate." Kurt began to climb down, his limbs going on autopilot as he nimbly descended.

He made it to the ground before Kate, and so, he was waiting by the time she dropped the last few feet to the ground.

"So tell me why this conversation had to be had on the ground?" she asked as she dusted off her hands and turned to face him —

— and found him on one knee on the ground.

"Didn't want you to fall out of the tree in shock," he said with a weak chuckle. He held out the blue velvet box and cracked it open (on the second try, after his sweaty finger slipped off the lid on the first attempt), revealing a silver band set with tiny purple gemstones.

Belatedly, Kurt realized he probably should be saying something to accompany the presentation of the ring.

"I… I had a speech all prepared," he said. "There was something about how I've loved you since the first words we spoke to each other and how I'll love you for the rest of my life, but I can't remember for the life of me how it was supposed to go." He licked his lips. "So instead, I'll just… ask. Katherine Elizabeth Bishop…" Kurt took a breath. "Will you do me the _absolute_ honor of marrying me?"

For one heart-stopping moment, Kate was absolutely still, her gaze fixed on the ring in Kurt's trembling hands.

Then, she darted forward and tackled him in a hug, knocking him backward into the grass and sending the ring box tumbling onto the ground. She was crying, but Kurt could make out an emphatic, " _Yes_."

He also thought he heard the words "you dummy," but he wasn't quite sure on that, as she'd begun smothering him with furious kisses.

Finally, she let him up, sniffling slightly, and pulled him into a gentler hug. "Thought you were never gonna ask," she murmured in his ear. "I was getting ready to ask you myself."

Kurt chuckled. "Wanted to make sure you were ready."

Kate laughed. "Well, I appreciate it." She kissed him on the nose and gestured to the ring box. "I think I'm supposed to put that on and go show it off or something?"

Kurt retrieved the velvet box. "Oh, boy." He turned back to Kate and showed her the inside — which was somewhat lacking in the jewelry it had previously held. "Um… I think the ring fell out."

He and Kate looked at each other for a moment before lapsing into helpless giggles, which quickly turned into raucous laughter.

"We should probably find that," Kate said eventually, wiping a couple of fresh tears from her eyes — though this time, they were from mirth. She and Kurt began running their fingers through grass, and it wasn't long before Kate scooped it up and slipped it onto her finger. It fit perfectly.

Kate admired it. "Did anyone know you had this planned?"

"Just Logan," Kurt admitted. "He helped me pick out the ring."

"Well, you two have good taste," Kate said, running a finger over the purple gems. "Now, let's see… who's going to scream when I show them this? Because that's who we should find first."

Kurt slipped his arm around her waist. "Well, if you're going to for _loudest_ reaction, probably Billy. If you're going for _longest_ reaction… actually, that's probably Billy as well, if we're being entirely honest. And I'm not sure he's entirely recovered from America's engagement either."

"Billy it is, then."

But it was not Billy they encountered first — it was Logan, wearing a grin that was barely disguising itself as a smirk. He must have taken a break from all he was doing in the Capitol to check in on them. Of course he had.

"She didn't turn you down, did she, Elf?" he teased. "''Bout time she made an honest troublemaker outta you."

Kurt reached out and snagged his friend by the shoulder, pulling him into a one-armed hug. " _Mein Freund_ , this may be premature to ask, but will you be my best man? Or at least split the duties with Stefan? You are my dearest friend; it seems only fair."

"You know I'd be honored, Kurt," Logan rumbled, turning the side hug into a bear hug. "Gonna have to find someone else to officiate — don't think you can cover your own wedding." He gave them a crooked grin. "You don't really need the 'treat her right' spiel. I know you will." Logan continued down the hallway. "I've got a little work to get done here. I think Billy's in the kitchen," he called over his shoulder as he disappeared around a corner.

"At this point, I'm not even surprised he knows who we were looking for," giggled Kate as they headed for the kitchen.

As predicted, Billy's shrieks were long, loud, and accompanied by the dropping of the bag of flour he'd been holding, making him look like a very surprised, very excited ghost.

Kurt and Kate left the kitchen with flour prints up and down their bodies as well from the hugs Billy had promptly delivered.

The news spread throughout the manor, and once all of the kids knew, there was no avoiding the swarm. Everyone wanted to see the ring and wish the happy couple congratulations, and it was more than a few hours later when Kurt and Kate finally managed to make their way back to the privacy of their room.

"Well, _mein Vögelchen,_ when we were up in the tree, you said that you had the life you wanted. Is this an okay addition?"

"It's the only thing that could have possibly made it better," Kate replied, pulling him close for a kiss.

Kurt found himself in complete agreement.

This was the life he wanted, and he had the whole thing in front of him.

It was going to be a good one.


	84. Epilogue: Christening

**A/N - Welcome to our _final week_ of updates for our Hunger Games/Marvel/DC trilogy! It's hard to believe it's been nearly five years since the start of this story, but here we are ... wrapping it up. Be sure you come back on Friday for our final epilogue, and please take a few seconds to review the last of our author's hard work. Five years is a long time to develop and work up characters - especially bending them to fit this world that we've so carefully built up. Many thanks to our talented authors supporting each other in the reviews, and many thanks to NatashaRomanovaB for popping in to say hello and SlimSummers2002 for working on catching up. Without any further ado, let's check in with one of our showrunners, robbiepoo2341 and her writing partner for one of our most popular pairings - Unlucky Alis!**

* * *

 **Epilogue: Christening**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341 and Unlucky Alis**

* * *

 **Dick Grayson**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341**

* * *

" _Now he's wrapped around her finger; she's the center of his whole world." -Carrie Underwood, "All-American Girl"_

* * *

Dick couldn't sit still.

He couldn't stop fidgeting, getting up out of his chair every few minutes to pace a small path and then sit back down again. He'd even tried doing a few different stretches, poses, exercises — nothing worked to shake out the nervous energy he was brimming with.

Kory was having a baby.

Kory was _right behind those doors_ having a baby.

The doctor had come up from town because Kory had been trying to ignore all the signs that she was going into labor, so everything had happened too fast to get her set up anywhere but at home. And that was alright, but then the little one wasn't turned right, and then once she was, Dick had to go outside and get a breath, because _wow._

Kory was having a baby.

He paced a few more times, running his hands over his face and through his hair, before he finally pushed the door open again.

He did feel bad that he could do things like that, ducking outside to get a break, to _breathe_ , when Kory was in there doing all the hard work. Her red hair was plastered to her face with sweat, and when he came to sit down next to her, she reached out to hit him in the shoulder.

"Do _not_ miss our little one's debut," she told him sharply.

"Yeah, no, I'm here," Dick promised quickly. "Had to get some air, but I'm here." To prove it, he grabbed her hand with both of his and kissed the back of it — and when that only got a tired smile out of her, he knew that she really was _exhausted_.

So, he didn't move from his appointed spot right by her side, even when she very nearly broke his fingers in a too-strong grip when the overwhelming urge to _push_ took hold. Not that Dick was going to complain about that. Nope. Not when Kory was doing all _this_.

It had taken Dick and Kory longer than either of them had thought it would to get around to kids. Not because they didn't _want_ kids — Dick had made it pretty clear when they got married that he did, and Kory agreed with his assessment that Alfred and Bruce _needed_ little ones to spoil — but because they'd spent the first couple years of their marriage not really trying, just enjoying being married in peace.

Plus, there had been so much else going on. They'd helped rebuild a manor house close to the Howlett Estate — smaller than the manor he and Helena had grown up in but much closer to Alfred's _lady friend_ — and then they'd done plenty to help out at the estate itself now that it was a safe haven. Dick had regular appointments with the new counselor there, Miss Braddock, since Charles Xavier was sort of busy running Marvel. And then when Alfred finally got around to proposing, well, planning the _best possible wedding_ for Alfred was sort of a priority.

Basically, life had been so busy after the war that kids had been more of a "someday" consideration than a "right now" kind of thing.

Until, all of a sudden, Kory made a surprise announcement. And then everything for the past few months had been about getting ready to have a _baby_. Putting together a crib. Sending invitations to the Titans so they could meet the little one. Going to doctor's appointments. Laughing at Alfred and Mrs. Hopkins looking like their _mission in life_ was to spoil this kid.

So now, watching Kory bring _their baby_ into this world, Dick was barely able to get his feet underneath him. This was amazing. His wife was amazing.

They were _having a baby._

He was so caught up in the excitement that he forgot to breathe — right up until the moment he heard _their baby_ crying. And then nothing in the world mattered except Kory and the little girl that looked so much smaller and so much more beautiful than Dick had expected.

"You are crying," Kory observed with a fond smile as she leaned back with _their little girl_ in her arms.

"Yeah," Dick breathed out, finally blinking some semblance of control back into his expression before he leaned over to kiss her sweaty forehead. "Wow, Kor. Wow."

Kory smiled playfully up at him and then stole a kiss. "I am glad we have a little girl," she told him. "She has inherited the talent for rendering you speechless."

Dick laughed at that and stole another kiss. "Like any daughter of yours could be anything less than perfect," he breathed out.

"Do not discount your contribution here," Kory said with one eyebrow raised as she gently handed him their baby girl. "She looks so much like you."

Dick smiled at that and then looked down at his little girl, brushing his fingers lightly over her mostly-bald head to play with some of the black hair there. "I think you're confused by the hair."

"We will just have to see which one of us is proven right with time," Kory teased.

Dick grinned crookedly, settling in with both of his girls for a good long time. Kory leaned her head on his shoulder, and both of them simply drank in their baby girl's presence — until the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door reminded Dick that there were, in fact, other people on the planet besides him and Kory and their little girl.

Finally, he let out a breath. "Well, shall we let in the wolves?"

Kory laughed at his description, and he thought it was the best sound he'd ever heard. "If you must."

Dick laughed too, and then, still holding his _brand new baby girl_ in his arms, he went to the door to let his waiting family know that Kory was ready to let them in. After all, she hadn't exactly wanted a huge audience for the birth. She wasn't shy, but there were some things that she wanted to share only with Dick.

Surprising absolutely no one, Alfred was the first one through the doors, looking like Christmas had come early as he scooped up the little one and looked appropriately misty-eyed as he took in every detail from her chubby cheeks to her tiny fingers. He didn't even say anything; he just sat down with the little girl and started to play with her, tickling her tummy, chin, and toes.

Helena laughed as she and Tim followed Alfred through the doors. "I know you put in the work, Kory, but it looks like baby Grayson has been claimed by our butler," Helena said. "I'm sure you'll get to visit on holidays."

"If that," Tim put in, grinning as he looked over Alfred's shoulder. "She's amazing, guys."

"I do not plan to let him keep her," Kory said with false severity — though she was too tired to pull off the tease right and kept smiling at Dick.

He loved her so much.

Helena put a hand on Dick's shoulder, and when he turned, she pulled him into a tight hug, her arms around his neck as she whispered her congratulations in his ear. Then, she squeaked as he lifted her off her feet and spun her around in a circle, laughing. When he set her down, she grinned mischievously. "Well, congratulations, _Mr. Anders_." Her eyes sparkled. "You're a daddy."

Dick laughed and shook his head. She was never going to stop teasing him — not that he wanted her too. That was what sisters were for. It didn't matter how often he pointed out that Kory knew how much being a Grayson meant to him; Helena had to tease him.

Still, he couldn't help but tell her, "C'mon, Hel. Come meet Mari _Grayson_."

Helena's eyes widened as she leaned over Alfred's shoulder to see the little girl. "She's beautiful." Gently running a fingertip over the baby's soft cheek, she added, "She has your eyes, Dick."

"Ha!" Kory pointed a finger his way. "See?"

"You two have been conspiring against me since the day you met. I am absolutely not surprised that you're doing it now," Dick said without missing a beat.

He expected a snappy response from his sister, but when he looked over, she was totally absorbed watching Mari, taking a shaky breath and brushing at watery eyes.

With a smile, he draped an arm over her shoulder. "Women are the best of our family. And here's another one."

Helena gave him a quiet laugh. "At least you know the score," she said, looking up at Dick to kiss his cheek — and seeing Bruce still paused in the doorway, taking in the scene.

She tapped Dick's hand, tipping her head toward their father so Dick could see for himself that Bruce looked almost… overwhelmed. It wasn't a look that he often wore, but then again, Bruce hadn't been a part of something like this since Helena's mom had died, and Dick knew the look Bruce was wearing intimately. It was the kind of look that was grief and joy all at once — a lot like the one he'd worn at Dick and Kory's wedding.

All at once, Dick made up his mind, and he gave Helena a theatrical wink. "Watch me break Bruce," he said, not even asking Alfred before he scooped up his little girl for himself and then deposited her in Bruce's arms — also without asking.

Bruce looked almost startled for just a moment before a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and threatened to become an actual expression. "Congratulations, Dick," he said, and Dick recognized his tone as the same one he'd used when he and Helena had been Reaped. It was the kind of tone that said Bruce was trying not to show his emotions.

All this time, and Bruce still couldn't figure out how to be a person.

Dick rolled his eyes and then draped his arm around Bruce's shoulder as he looked down at Mari, reaching out to boop the little girl on the nose. "What do you think, Bruce? Me or Kory? There's some debate."

"I think she's a good mix," Bruce said — and then surprised Dick when he gently used his hand to shade Mari's eyes. All at once, Mari's eyes went wide, and she seemed to be trying to take in the whole world at once now that there weren't bright lights shining in her face.

Moments like that reminded Dick that Bruce must have done this kind of thing for Helena.

Seriously, Bruce was a better father than he gave himself credit for. And Dick was sure, watching him interact with Mari, that he'd be an amazing grandfather, too.

While Bruce held Mari and looked more and more like he was falling in love, Dick slipped back over to where Kory was and sat down on the bed with her to steal a gentle kiss. "I think she's going to be spoiled, don't you?" he teased.

"You act as though there was ever any doubt," she teased right back.

"Good point," he said, nodding slowly. "With my family, it's pretty much baked in, isn't it?"

"I thought that was why you wanted children," she laughed. "Did you not say that your father would — what was the phrase you used — 'turn into a giant squish' as soon as we did so?"

Dick couldn't hide his laugh at her retelling. "Using my own words against me?"

"Only when you seem to be so wrapped up in your exuberance that you forget them," she said, still grinning at him before she laid her head on his shoulder and let out a contented sigh. "But yes, I agree: Mari will be so loved. And I am glad for it."

Dick smiled and kissed the top of her head as he pulled her closer. "You did all the hard work, Kor. The rest of us are just in awe of you and Mari."

"She seems to have inherited your knack for stealing the spotlight," Kory teased.

"Let her have it," Dick said, waving his hand before he used that hand to tip Kory's chin up so they were looking eye to eye. "I love you so much, Kory. You know that, right?"

"I would not have agreed to marry you and have a family with you otherwise," she said with a soft smile. Even exhausted and sweaty, she still looked amazing. She still took his breath away.

He loved her so much.

He stole a long kiss, gently brushing her hair through his fingers, until Mari let out a noise that caught their attention again and Bruce made his way over to hand Mari back to Kory.

"This little one needs to eat before you two get started on the next one," Bruce said with a quiet smirk.

Both Kory and Dick flushed, but Dick took it a step further and let his jaw drop as he stared at Bruce. "Did you just make a joke?"

Bruce smirked a little harder. "I just told you your daughter is hungry; that's all," he said before he turned to leave — ostensibly to give Kory some privacy to nurse Mari for the first time, though Dick was sure Bruce was still _smug_ even with his back turned.

Dick shook his head and let out a disbelieving laugh before he turned back to Kory. "Bruce is telling jokes _and_ we got the prettiest baby on the planet. I'm pretty sure this is the best day of my life."

* * *

 **Kory Anders**

 **Written by Unlucky Alis**

* * *

 _"A child needs a grandparent, anybody's grandparent, to grow a little more securely into an unfamiliar world." — Charles and Ann Morse_

* * *

Kory would never get tired of travelling by train. She would always like flying best — nothing beat the twist in her gut when she looked outside and saw the ground so far below, the clouds so close — but trains had a wonderful sort of novelty.

Walking up and down the car, she watched as trees and fields flew by in a blur through the window. The trains of Marvel, once a part of the exclusive extravagance of the Capitol, ran smoothly. They didn't bump or rattle or sway. She even had to focus to properly feel the vibrations through her feet.

"Uh-oh," Dick said. "It looks like Mommy's fretting."

Kory stopped her pacing and looked at him.

They were in a private car, with long, cushioned benches lining one side and a series of tables and chairs on the other for dining. Dick had claimed one of the benches immediately and stretched across its length, leaning against the armrest.

Mari, wearing a little lavender dress covered in silver flowers, was curled against Dick's chest, a space-themed blanket tucked around her. She grabbed at Dick's fingers, but her wide eyes were glued on Kory.

Dick stroked Mari's cheek with his thumb and grinned. "I think she needs a hug."

Kory smiled and said, "Yes, I'm feeling quite neglected. You've abandoned me for another woman."

Dick scooted up, making room for Kory, and she immediately swooped in and claimed the empty space, along with her daughter. A little noise of protest left Dick's lips as Kory scooped up Mari and settled her in her lap.

"Betrayal," he hissed.

"Careful," Kory said, bringing Mari up and kissing her cheek. "I might abandon you for this woman, too."

"I'll fight you for her," Dick said, finally pulling himself upright.

"You'd lose. And you'd enjoy it."

Mari cooed, and Kory decided that meant she agreed. Kory grinned smugly at Dick while Mari continued to babble. Being only three months old, nothing Mari said resembled any real words, just lots of oh's and ah's and vowel sounds. But it was music to Kory's ears.

Their daughter — Kory just loved being able to look down on her sweet face and say this little girl was _theirs_ — was a handsome baby. No matter what Dick said, Kory was resolute that Mari took more after him than Kory.

Kory smiled, feeling two pairs of identical blue eyes on her. The term "baby blues" had never been more appropriate than when she first saw Mari's eyes, the same beautiful shade as Dick's. It was so easy for Kory to get lost in those eyes.

"Feeling better?" Dick asked, sliding across the bench and putting an arm around Kory's shoulders.

Nestled against his side, Kory rested her head on Dick's shoulders and shifted her hold on Mari so she was between them.

"I am nervous," Kory said. "It has been quite some time since I spoke to my parents."

Dick frowned, running his fingers through Kory's long hair. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be ridiculous." Kory rolled her eyes. "They love me, but they weren't sure what to do with me once I threw their expectations away. We just drifted apart."

Dick kept playing with Kory's hair with one hand and caressed Mari's head with the other. Mari's fine black hair shifted under his fingers. Soft and silky, like her mother's. "Looking forward to seeing Twelve again?"

"I can show you all the places you didn't get to see last time," Kory said.

"If they're still there," Dick said.

Which was a good point. Kory hadn't been back to Twelve since before the wedding, when she invited her mentors and her family. Before then, it was when she finally introduced Dick to her parents, a whole five months after the war.

* * *

 _Kory and Dick sat in the Anders' living room, their thighs and shoulders pressed together, fingers intertwined. Mya and Lu, Kory's parents, sat opposite them. Komander wasn't there. Everything about the room was so familiar and foreign at the same time._

 _Right beside Kory on the couch cushion was a little tear. It happened during one of Kory and Komander's childhood fights. Back then, Komander usually preferred to go the manipulative route. But, sometimes, when Kory confronted her intending peace, things got more physical. No punching or wrestling, but lots of throwing._

 _Kory couldn't remember who actually made the tear. It was barely even an inch long, but Lu almost had a meltdown when she saw it. Komander got the blame for it._

 _Such a small tear. At the time, Kory understood her mother's ire. The couch was a nice piece of furniture, clean, in good condition. In a place like Twelve, that was enough to be a mark of status._

 _Now, Kory thought that was probably the stupidest thing she'd heard. A couch being a symbol of status? A very fixable tear being something to shout about? Ridiculous._

 _When Kory went to the Capitol, she felt like an alien there. Now, she was an alien in her own home._

 _Dick wasn't doing much better. His fingers twitched against Kory's palms. Besides Lu's eager greeting, which was accompanied by a tight hug for both Kory and Dick, no one had spoken yet. While Dick was a charming young man who knew how to work a crowd with a charismatic smile, these were his girlfriend's parents. He wanted them to like him._

 _Kory thought it was absolutely adorable and found deep satisfaction in watching Dick sweat._

" _So, this is Richard?" Mya said, voice gruff and low._

" _That sounds so formal; I prefer Dick," Dick said, smiling easily._

 _Mya's eyebrow rose._

 _Kory, unable to help it, giggled when Dick flushed._

" _It's nice to finally meet you," Lu said, nudging her husband. "We watched you in the Games. Thank you for helping Kory survive."_

 _Kory suddenly wasn't sure if she should smile, frown, or succumb to the crimson blush that was suddenly working its way onto her cheeks. Smile, because it looked like her parents liked Dick so far. Frown, because it sounded like Lu was discounting Kory's own strength in the Games. And blush because of the many heated makeout sessions she and Dick had in front of the cameras._

 _Kory wasn't a modest person_ — _she didn't care about people seeing her express her love for her boyfriend_ — _but knowing her parents saw was a bit awkward._

" _Since you came back, does that mean you're finished with your things?" Lu asked._

" _Our things?" Dick glanced at Kory, who shrugged._

" _When you were last here, you said you had some things to take care of," Lu explained, looking at Kory. "Now that you're back, does that mean you're… back? The store can still be yours."_

 _Dick swallowed nervously when Kory's grip on his hand tightened. Mya looked at his wife with something akin to pity. When Kory last parted from this house, Mya accepted Kory's decision. Lu, evidently, still hadn't._

" _I'm sorry," Kory said. She didn't mean to lead her mother along like this, hadn't even realized she was doing it. She loved her parents so much, but their life wasn't hers. Maybe, in another life, on another world, Lu would understand. She would know more about her strong, warrior princess daughter_ — _would think like her._

 _Maybe. But not here._

" _We took care of what we needed to do," Kory said. It pained her that she couldn't really explain what it was she, Dick, the Titans, all of SHIELD, did. She could tell her parents everything, but hearing and understanding were two very different things. "I wanted to introduce you to Dick, and then we'll be going home."_

" _Home," Lu echoed._

" _Mrs. Anders," Dick said, cutting into the conversation. "I love Kory, more than anything. She's probably the best thing that's ever happened to me."_

 _Kory lifted her chin and extracted her hands from Dick's, subtly slipping her arm behind his back and caressing his spine with a feather-light touch._

" _If she wanted to stay here, I'd stay with her. We've been fighting a war," Dick took a deep breath before continuing, "and that really changes someone. I need Kory, so much. And I'm so lucky she understands_ what _I need."_

 _Not what, but who. Bruce, Alfred, Helena, even Tim. Dick needed his family. Kory didn't need hers, not the same way. She pressed her palm into his back, a reassuring weight._

" _You're a good man," Mya said to Dick. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and smiled. There was a proud glint in his eyes. "Kory, my little star, make him earn your love."_

 _Kory's smile was slow and eager. "Of course," she said._

 _Dick leaned over, whispering in her ear without taking his eyes off Mya. "Uh, what does that mean?"_

" _You'll find out," Kory answered, giving him a heated look through fluttering eyelashes._

 _Dick gulped audibly._

" _Komander will be upset she missed you," Lu said. "She hasn't been the same since your last visit."_

" _If she wishes to see me, she may reach out on her own. Until then, I am satisfied with how we left things." There was no point dwelling on things that didn't matter anymore._

" _Oh." Lu wrung her hands. She was perched on the edge of her seat, and every time she glanced at Kory, there was a hint of sadness and confusion in her gaze. Kory wasn't looking forward to the moment that look changed into resignation._

" _So," Lu said, "what was your first meeting like?"_

 _Tension undercut her words, but she was trying. At the moment, that was all Kory could ask for_.

* * *

It hadn't changed. The district looked different — better, cleaner — than it ever had when Kory lived there, but the Anders' store was just the same as Kory remembered it. The sign in the front window was flipped to 'Closed.'

Kory had this trip planned in her head from the moment she discovered she was pregnant. She didn't tell her parents about the baby until well into her pregnancy, and she didn't want to take Mari on any big trips until at least a couple months after she was born. But she knew her parents were looking forward to this visit just as much as she was.

They went around the back of the building, up the stairs to the second-floor door that lead straight into the apartment. Kory had Mari in a carrier while Dick hefted the diaper bag. At the door, she hesitated.

"Do you think they'd be mad if I just walked in? We _are_ family," Dick said.

That one joke, lighthearted and teasing, was enough to ease Kory's nerves.

"They would be honored by your mere presence," she said.

"Then it'd be rude to keep them waiting."

After a nod from Kory, Dick knocked on the door. It swung open not a second later, as if Mya — the one who opened it — had been standing there the whole time, waiting for them. He probably was.

"My little star!" Mya boomed. He swept Kory into a strong hug and clapped Dick on the back. "Where's my granddaughter?"

But he was already looking down at the carrier, and Kory readily relinquished it to his hands. This was a side of her father she hadn't seen before. He wasn't a restrained man, but the brilliant smile and soft eyes were a surprise to see on his face. He looked at Mari with nothing short of awe.

Mya ushered Kory and Dick into the apartment, leading them to the kitchen. There, Lu was cooking: a large covered pot on the stove, a pan of sauteed onions and mushrooms, and another pan of grilling chicken. Lu turned when they entered the kitchen, a smile breaking out across her face.

"You're early," she said, momentarily abandoning the stove to approach Kory and Dick. She looked them up and down. "You look fantastic for new parents."

Dick grinned, running a hand through his hair and looking off to the side. "We thought we'd look our best for such a special occasion."

"It's good to see you again," Lu said. She got to Dick first, a short but caring embrace, then wrapped her arms around Kory and squeezed her tight. She whispered, "I missed you so much. I love you, Kory."

"I love you too, Mom," Kory whispered back.

"Lu, come say hello to your granddaughter!" Mya said, prompting Kory to break the hug. She took her mother's elbow and led her to the dining room table, where Mya set Mari's carrier down.

Mya carefully lifted Mari from her blankets, his eyes shining as he took her in. "She's beautiful," he said.

"Congratulations," Lu added, moving to stand beside her husband.

Seeing Mya hold Mari for the first time reminded Kory of when Bruce first laid eyes on the baby. She wondered if it was just a grandparent thing, to completely melt at the sight of their grandchildren.

Mari stared at them with wide, focused eyes. Her gaze constantly shifted from Mya to Lu, a lovely look of wonder in her eyes. Mari smiled. Lu made a soft _oh_ sound while Mya simply held Mari closer.

"She knows how to work an audience," Dick said proudly.

"She learned from the best," Kory said.

"Thank you."

"I was talking about me." Kory touched the inside of Dick's wrist and smiled in that special, sultry way of hers.

" _Oh_ ," was all Dick said in response.

The moment was interrupted when Mya cleared his throat and said, "I hope you'll visit now. I'd love to see more of my grandaughter — and both of you."

It was Kory's turn to utter a soft, "Oh." Because Mya's eyes were still shining. He was crying.

Kory had never quite needed her family the way Dick needed his. She found her own family, first through her mentors, then Dick and the Titans, and Dick's own family after that. A sister through Helena, a brother through Tim, a grandfather through Alfred, and even a father through Bruce. But the want was always there. The desire to be as close to her own parents as Dick was to Bruce.

In Mya's large, but gentle, hands, Mari looked so small. And so safe. Like nothing could hurt her the way this world had hurt Kory and Dick.

"Of course," Kory said, her own eyes burning with tears. The war, the Games, the strain with her parents, Komander. The years before Dick, when a kiss was a distraction, a search for something more, rather than a confession of love. Every little frustration built up over the years threatening to spill out onto her cheeks.

Dick put his arm around Kory's waist. Lu took Mari from Mya's arms, starting to sway from side to side

In that moment, she knew. Mari would never be hurt in those ways. And as long as their family drew breath, she would never be found wanting.


	85. Epilogue: Going Home, Finally

**A/N - Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, kids of all ages ... we've finally reached the end of not only this book, but the series as a whole. For those of you that took the time to read and review, we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts. Practically An Avenger and Slim Summers2002 - Rockstars. Thank you! Without any further ado, a final epilogue from both of our showrunners, robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl bringing us Noh-Varr and Wolverine. A solid way to say goodbye to a story that's run 4 and a half years.**

* * *

 **Epilogue - Going Home, Finally**

 **Noh Varr and James 'Logan' Howlett**

* * *

 **Noh Varr**

 **Written by robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

"I believe the situation in Four has stabilized," Noh said after the door to Logan's office closed. "Finally. Arthur Curry is no longer standing in the way of the new generation, and the others have learned to work with one another on a level they simply didn't before. "

"Good. Have you heard back from Starling or Angel?" Logan asked as he glanced up from the tablet in front of him.

"Yes, both of them are doing well, with no trouble to report. But that's not what I came to speak with you about. Not entirely," Noh told him as he took a seat and waited for Logan to give him his full focus. "I believe that it's time for me to step away from this lifestyle. Arcadia is stable; the people of all three nations have accepted Diana as their mouthpiece at the very least, and peace has been reigning over their lands."

Logan smirked at that, nodding. "You an' Jubes movin' to the Capitol full-time, then?"

"As much as I'd like to say yes, I'm afraid the Capitol will continue to only be a part-time endeavor. She's taken a genuine liking to beaches."

"Arcadia then?"

" _No_ ," Noh replied, perhaps a bit more harshly than he'd meant to sound. "No, we've had enough of intrigue. Besides, she prefers a steadily warmer climate and an entirely different ocean." He smiled warmly. "And my Jubilee has informed me that the noodle shops on the west coast are second to none."

"They are," Logan agreed, looking at his hands for a long moment in a manner that had Noh frowning to himself.

"She will continue to cover whatever you may need for uniforms and suits, _of course_ ," Noh clarified. "I doubt she'd know what to do with herself if she had only _public_ fashion lines to create en masse. You still hold a special place in her heart, my friend."

"Not what I was worried about," Logan replied as he met Noh's gaze and then got to his feet his hand outstretched. "You're takin' good care of her."

Noh smiled softly. "How could I do anything else? I love her."

"You'd have to be crazy not to," Logan replied.

"She is rather impossible not to adore, isn't she?" Noh couldn't hide his genuine warmth. "Besides, with our little ones in the fold, I'm never without someone to care for. And yet she and I come to see you often. That speaks to the high regard you're held in."

"She's just protecting her rep," Logan said with a wave, though he was smirking all the same.

"Oh, of course," Noh chuckled.

"Enjoy whatever it is you two have lined up," Logan said. "And if you have anyone in mind to take over, say the word."

"Bobby Drake," Noh said without missing a beat.

"Can he keep his mouth shut?" Logan asked, one eyebrow raised.

"To protect his love? Yes. And that's the goal, isn't it? To keep them all safe?" Noh waved his hand. "He's far gentler than he allows people to see at first."

"Fair enough," Logan said, though he didn't bother asking anything else further.

Noh stopped and put a hand on Logan's shoulder. "And you know where to find us should you need anything," he said. "Please reach out. Our friends are our friends; you aren't simply business, Logan."

Logan held his gaze, unblinking. "I'm all set."

"Not what I said," Noh said.

"I don't need anything."

"And still that's not what I said," Noh said. "Keep in touch. Reach out. _Talk_ to us on occasion. I know you're a private man, but … well. Shogo loves you to pieces, and Merree as well. That alone should tell you how loved you are."

"And Jubilee won't quit her _self imposed_ position any time soon, so you can probably relax."

"It must be a burden to be so loved," Noh teased as he got up to leave.

"Thanks, Noh," Logan called out, already focusing on the little tablet with a deep frown.

"See you later," Noh said, smiling to himself as he left to go find Jubilee.

He really was looking forward to retiring with her. It had been a long time coming, and he was ready to _relax_ instead of constantly looking over his shoulders.

The stylists had been keeping their eyes open for a long time now. So the fact that even they were starting to find something else to do with their lives meant that the future really was secure.

* * *

 **James 'Logan' Howlett**

 **Written by Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

" _The most beautiful stories start with wreckage." -_ Jack London

* * *

"Were you out on a mission?" Peggy asked briskly as she came striding into the director's office, where Logan was peeling off his black mission gear. "You should be in your uniform. There's a meeting regarding new security measures for the Triskelion in an hour, and we're discussing who should be our replacement for Noh-Varr."

"Last minute tip came in on that preacher that was tryin' to go after the Tahiti kids," Logan said as he took off the armor he'd been wearing, leaving him in a white tee shirt as he stepped around the desk to change out of the fatigues and into some jeans.

"And you had to deal with it yourself?" Peggy asked, her back to him as he got dressed.

"Figured I could keep it quiet, hit fast. Didn't want to bother anyone if my tip was wrong," Logan defended before he told her she could turn around. As always, it took her a moment before she turned back his way. Logan was frowning at Peggy as she stopped next to him and waited for him to finish pulling his boots on, though she was inspecting the damage to his body armor where he'd dropped it on his desk. "Besides, most of the people that were available were Tahiti — and I didn't want to send 'em to that idiot."

"Oh, of course not. Can't have anyone doing a mission _with_ you, especially if it relates to Tahiti tributes," she said, smiling pleasantly. "Not that I'm going to complain. I'm rather attached to one in particular."

"I mighta heard that rumor." Logan smirked to himself at that. It had only been a year and a half since she and Steve had gotten married. And the jokes about 'Mr. Carter' were still flying.

"Honestly, Logan," she said. "You know you should try the new armor next time. If you insist on doing these secret missions, do that much at least. I don't want you getting assassinated."

"Don't really need it," Logan drawled out, but that only got him a hard glare from Peggy until he held up both hands to placate her.

"That's what _you_ think," she countered, fuming as she turned on her heel to march toward the door, though she couldn't help but let him know what she thought on the way out. "Fitz and Simmons spent a lot of time and energy perfecting that armor — _for you_ , Director."

"Right." Logan let out a breath and reached into his pocket to produce the little graphite-colored cube he'd gotten from Fury just as Peggy reached the door, clearly still fired up. "Hey, Peg," Logan called out, and she turned, ready for a fight until she saw what he was holding and stopped cold. He held Peggy's gaze as he carefully placed his fingers across the cube and pressed the hidden buttons there. "Director override: James 'Logan' Howlett. Transfer of alpha and omega security clearance to Assistant Director Margaret Carter."

He had told Peggy it was coming one of these days, so he figured that on its own was warning enough. It was a lot more than Logan got when it was his turn. As he handed her the cube, he watched as it scanned her facial features and registered her fingerprints. Logan smirked, only relaxing when the cube announced its confirmation and the lights faded out.

"Congratulations, Director," Logan said as he pulled his flannel shirt over his shoulders and then picked up his duffel bag. "I think you got a meeting in about an hour you need to get to. Good luck."

Peggy's mouth tightened into a thin line for just a moment before she bucked up and smiled warmly at him. "I can't think of anyone that's earned a rest more than you," she said. "The country won't fall apart without you. I won't let it."

"Attagirl," Logan said before he started toward the door, though Peggy stopped him to shake his hand. "Didn't think it could slip that fast anyhow."

"Do you know when you're leaving?" Peggy asked. "I know there are a few people here that would like to say goodbye."

"Not sure yet," Logan said before he smirked crookedly, though his attention was drawn by movement down the hall, and his shoulders relaxed further when he saw the tall blond come into view. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his keys quickly enough that Steve didn't see the motion, though he did spot the cube in Peggy's hands.

"You're leaving? I thought you were going to wait until the new year," Steve said, his expression stuck somewhere between a smile and disappointment as he offered Logan his hand to shake.

Logan looked up at Steve and tried to force something beyond a tired smirk as he took his hand — though that only had Steve looking more confused when the handshake was over and he pulled his hand back, with Logan's keys in his palm. "If I wait for January, next thing you know, I'll be waitin' for spring. Then summer … I won't ever get outta here."

"And you _should_ be the first director to walk out on their own steam — not killed out of the job," Steve said, even if he was clearly not expecting this right then. He held up the keys and jingled them. "What's this?"

"Keys to your motorcycle."

" _My_ —"

"Take care, Cap," Logan said, dropping Steve's gaze before he turned away from them and headed down the hall. It was a relief to quit the job, though with every step, Logan wondered what the hell he was supposed to do with himself now.

When the war _ended_ , Logan started having nightmares. Flashbacks. PTSD. The works. It had been hellish — but it had also helped to put into context the crimes that had been perpetrated against the victors. As a result, Skye and Bruce Wayne had worked together and made it a _priority_ to chase down all the people who had bought time with victors. And bring them to justice. It was a long project, and one that had required help from outside of Marvel proper. Especially since several of the worst offenders had fled Marvel for Canada, Arcadia, and Wakanda, hoping to avoid prosecution. It had been a terrible error on their part. Especially since Thor, Storm, Kaldur, and T'Challa himself had eagerly joined in the hunt to find these abusers. And that didn't even touch what had befallen those that had been found by the cutting crew in Canada. But that massive mission had been over for three years. And there wasn't much Logan had to hunt anymore.

Logan had decided to step down in large part because, since the second-ever election for president had ended, there had been next to _nothing_ for him to do. His covert team's missions had all but dried up. He couldn't remember how long it had been since someone had tried to kill him, and he'd stopped several uprisings at the grass-roots level before the hate speech could infect more than a small pocket of people who quickly forgot the insanity their cult leaders advocated.

He wasn't _needed_ in the Capitol anymore. And he wasn't needed at SHIELD.

Logan readjusted his bag over his shoulder and turned the corner, down another hall.

"Hey, big guy, looks like you're stuck in your head again," Skye said as she fell into step with him.

Logan turned his head her way and smirked to himself before he subtly reached over and took her hand in his. "Suppose I am."

"You gonna be alright once you get home? I mean _home_ home, not here."

"I'm always alright. What about you?" The two of them shared a quiet, troublemaking look for a long moment.

"I've got everything _I_ need," Skye said with a crooked grin.

"Is that your way of tellin' me that the cabin has high speed internet now?"

"Yes. Yes it is," Skye agreed with a snicker, but when she started to adjust her bag, Logan stopped and took it to carry right along with his. "You really don't have to do that."

"Yes I do," Logan argued. "What kind of husband lets his pregnant wife carry all that crap?"

"I'm not _that_ far along," Skye argued, though the prominent bump argued her point, and Logan simply raised an eyebrow at her statement. "I can carry my own stuff!"

"Okay," Logan said. "Still gonna do it."

Skye couldn't hide the smile on hearing it as she took his arm and followed his lead through the hidden passageways in the Triskellion down to the hangars, avoiding the snow as it swirled outside high in the mountains. Logan hadn't told anyone but Skye and Harry Tabeshaw what the plan was — and as far as he was concerned, no one needed to know. It had been a zoo after pictures leaked of him wearing a ring not quite a year after the elections ended. They'd _had_ a very quiet, small ceremony, but the fallout from _one_ eagle eyed photographer had been substantial. Since then, Logan did his damndest to keep that from happening often. Of course, the two of them got incredibly familiar with the hidden passageways as soon as Skye started to show.

Harry had been flying supply runs all over the country, and Logan knew that his transport wouldn't raise any red flags for _anyone_ if they were to hop on and hitch a ride, so that's exactly what they did. Though it was sunset when they left the Capitol, their arrival in Canada was under cover of darkness.

Logan and Harry took a moment to say a quick goodbye before the former SHIELD agents slipped out of the transport and started across the snowy airfield that was where Wayne Manor once stood. Logan had made the arrangements; Michael Twoyoungmen was set to meet them just outside of town to give them a ride out to the yet-to-be-seen brand new cabin far in the woods. And it was kind of the perfect introduction to their new home as snow fell gently in big, puffy flakes, cutting the visibility to just what was lit up around them artificially.

The only light in town was from the windows of houses lining the old district center's snow-coated streets, and they quietly walked through town, with Logan leading the way by taking all the shortcuts to avoid any revelry that was common at the restaurants and bars. They could hear families talking in their homes as they passed the houses, and on hearing it, Skye gave his arm a little squeeze. He knew she was nervous about moving _so far_ from civilization, but she also knew how hard the past six or seven years had been for him — stuck in the spotlight and trapped in the Capitol from the time he'd been reaped. So she was willing to give it an honest try.

The sounds of the town began to fade as they got closer to where the lumber crews had always parked their work trucks, but now, there were more than just log haulers. Michael took the bags and tossed them into the back of his pickup truck, and Logan held the door open for Skye to climb in. Logan jumped in the back of the pick up as Michael started it up — and the three of them headed off deeply into the woods.

Michael was at least discreet, simply welcoming them to their new home before he left the couple to settle in. But it had been a long day, and now that they were in their own house — in the middle of the woods — Logan was suddenly exhausted.

"We can look it all over tomorrow," Skye suggested, to which Logan quietly agreed. But after a little time for the two of them to settle in, Logan was just … _done_.

* * *

There were a few moments over the next few days that counted down to the last of November that Logan realized weren't a dream. Outside of the occasional kiss from Skye to make sure he was even alive, Logan could recall the sound of foxes hunting on the frozen lake outside, wolves singing at night — which he had to explain to Skye was perfectly safe before pulling her in tightly and passing out again while he was wrapped around her — little things like that vaguely marked the passing of time as he relaxed for the first time in _years_ without the help of someone drugging him.

But soft, not-at-all muted giggles were definitely not in the repertoire he was expecting as he slept. Nor was the tiny hand that reached out to rub his cheek. "So _scruffy_ ," one little voice said. Logan didn't move even as the little ones climbed over him — and another one sat on his back.

"You're cheating!" the second voice said, sounding honestly upset. "Das not how to get da first Wolvie-back ride!" That on its own was more than enough to tip Logan off that he was dealing with Jubilee's little ones.

As Logan was considering how best to startle the two of them without hurting them, a much bigger bounce jostled him and got the kids giggling as Jubilee made her way over and started bouncing on the other side of the bed. "Come on kids, Shogo's right: Wolvie's scruffy and we have a _birthday party_ to get ready for, so you have to go help your dad while I make Wolvie get cleaned up. Got it?" Jubilee directed. In a breath, the two little ones cheerfully agreed and bounced out. Jubilee leaned down so she was on the same eye-level as Logan as he cracked open one eye to watch her. "Do you need me to tell you what to do, birthday boy?"

"No."

"Do I need to get bigger people in here to jump on the bed?"

"No."

"You have an hour before I come back," Jubilee warned, one finger pointing in Logan's face as she did so. He held her gaze for a long moment before she finally got up, leaving him with the clear direction to clean up.

Of course, once she was gone, Logan settled in again and tried to go back to sleep. By the time Jubilee returned, however, Logan was stepping out of the shower — and made it clear in no uncertain terms that he didn't _want_ or _need_ her help anymore. "Jubes, you've been my lifeline practically since we met, and you know I love you, but I swear to God, if you keep trying to dress me up and screw with my hair, we're gonna have real problems."

"But I have the _best_ suit—"

" _Out_."

"But you _can't_ go back to just … _jeans and flannels_!"

"Jubilation…" The two of them held a short staring contest, with both of them looking to be on the edge of shouting, before Jubilee threw her hands up in the air and turned on her heel with a frustrated sort of sound — and grumbled all the way down the stairs. It wasn't until Logan had finished getting dressed and came down himself that he saw exactly what her problem was.

It wasn't _just_ Jubilee and her star-dusted family waiting there with Skye to wish him a happy birthday. Shogo and Merree were following the ringleader, with Benji Parker and Susie Hunter — Bobbi Morse's little girl — trailing behind Dick Grayson like a line of ducklings and trying with _impressive_ success to copy every one of his moves.

As Logan hit the bottom of the stairs, Bobbi Morse and Betsy Braddock were the first to sweep in, give him a hug, and kiss him on the cheek with their birthday wishes.

"Quill sends his love," Bobbi said. "Gamora went into early labor, so he's tied up in the hospital, but he says 'hi'."

"Good for them," Logan said. "What'd they end up with?"

"Little girl," Bobbi said, smirking hard. "So of course, he's _entranced_. She's only three pounds, but the doctors say everything looks good, all things considered."

He nodded. "Probably got her mom's demeanor. She'll be fine. Jess is doin' a lot better too. She's training incoming agents now. Has a real bone to pick with anyone playing with poisons. Go figure."

"Oh, I know," Bobbi said. "I've been watching her a lot closer than I'm supposed to. That — and I'm the one she sends the antidotes to." She shook her head lightly. "I'm glad. You were right. She just needed to get her head on straight."

Their little conversation was broken up when Sam Wilson and Hank McCoy made their way over to start the festivities with a round of shots. And, as always, trailing Hank was Gar and Raven, happy to be a part of things, even if they weren't drinking with the victors.

"I like the place," Sam said, grinning as he took in the details of the house. "Very you. Better than that office you had in the Capitol."

Logan followed his gaze and shrugged one shoulder. "I dunno. Seems like too many people know where it is already."

"You need a 'Keep Out' sign," Sam teased.

Logan snorted out a laugh. "Yeah. Cause _that_ works."

Sam grinned even wider at that. "Hey, I can't talk. I've got my hands full back home too."

"By the way, you're gonna have trouble keepin' up with Cap again. I gave him the bike before I left," Logan said.

"Hey now," Sam said, trying but failing to pull off a passable angry expression.

"He's gonna need it to keep the new director happy," Logan said. "You know what a speed demon she is."

"Fair enough," Sam agreed, though he was still shaking his head with his usual, easy grin — until Merree came running over to tug on Logan's sleeve.

"I somersaulted and nobody _see'd_ it!" she said, positively distressed — since at the moment, the kids were distracted with Gar diving headfirst into the middle of their group to play.

"Their loss, little darlin'," Logan said as he picked her up and let her snuggle in. "You know what?" He let his voice drop to almost a whisper as he leaned toward her, and Merree mimicked the motion, wide-eyed. "I'll bet you can get Grayson to show you how to do a proud peacock if you ask him."

"Oooh, what's _that_?" she asked.

"Ask him and find out," Logan said as he let her slip to the floor again.

The other victors watched quietly with Logan as the determined little girl strutted over to Dick, who promptly fell apart laughing at the request. It took him a moment to pull himself together again, before he scooped Merree up and dangled her upside down to show her how to do the pose Logan had caught him doing in the Capitol — then demonstrated it himself to peals of laughter from the kids and several of the adults in attendance as well.

"You're only making him worse, you know," Helena pointed out as she joined the group.

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Miss Wayne," Logan said evenly over the rim of his glass before he took a long drink.

"Of course you don't," Helena said in a similarly even tone, though she was smirking quietly the whole time.

"And you _never_ encourage my husband," Kory laughed as she sidled up to Helena — holding Mari, who was watching her father show off and leaning toward him.

"Nope," Logan said, shaking his head. "Never once."

Kory laughed as Helena stepped up her teasing: "He's become the little brother you never wanted."

"Does that make you the bratty little sister?" Logan shot back. "Cause I know I never saw that paperwork."

Kory was still grinning as she shifted how she was holding Mari, who was getting a little fussy. "You have been so busy, you have not seen _our_ little one. And you should." Before Logan could argue it, Kory swiftly and gently tipped Mari into his arms, giggling delightedly to herself at the expression on his face that read so clearly this wasn't what he was expecting.

Logan looked up at Kory, who had clasped her hands under her chin and was bouncing in place. "You are an uncle now, yes? This is good practice!" Kory proclaimed. Mari was starting to fuss a little more — and both Helena and Kory looked _far_ too entertained.

Then, shocking both of them — and anyone else who was eavesdropping — Logan frowned at the two women, readjusted Mari so she was cradled better, and then turned his frown toward the little girl in his arms. "Stop that," he said to Mari in a gentle rumble. And just like that, Mari settled right out and gave him a gummy smile.

"She looks just like her father," Kory said proudly as Logan and Mari studied each other.

Logan didn't bother trying to hide his understated smile. "She's a good mix of both of ya." He let out a breath and glanced toward the group of SHIELD agents near the windows overlooking the lake. "You know, I quit SHIELD. I'm done."

"Glad to hear it," Helena said without breaking stride. "You've earned a break."

"Everyone keeps sayin' that," Logan said, shaking his head. "And I still got no idea what you're talkin' about."

"Well, you've always been a little dim," Helena said, shaking her head regretfully while her eyes sparkled with laughter.

"Not gonna take it as much of a crack comin' from you," Logan said. "All things considered. You keep hornin' in on your Dad's work, he's gonna have to start lookin' for new projects."

"Although that is true," Kory broke in, "your _little one_ 's imminent arrival is most excellent news! Do not think I missed how far along Skye is. I cannot wait for our little ones to grow up so close to one another!"

"I'm sure the girls'll love it," Logan said casually, clearly under the impression that it was already common knowledge — and as far as he knew, from how excited Skye was for a girl, it was.

But the way Helena's eyebrows both shot up said it was news to her, even if Kory got there first with a squeal and a hug around his shoulders. "Oh, that is most wonderful!" she declared. "She will be surrounded by love — as she should be."

"I thought you knew," Logan said as he looked up at Kory, unable to return the hug with Mari curled up in his arms.

"How would I? You two have always been so private about your blessings! We felt lucky to be on the guest list for the wedding! Besides, I have been occupied until I left Gar and Raven to speak with you," Kory pointed out. "There is so much joy to go around!"

"She said she was tellin' people," Logan said. "I just figured word had gotten out."

"All the same, I am glad I heard it from you," Kory said, then smiled, kissed his cheek, and gently took her daughter back before she bounced over to Dick, obviously bursting to tell him the good news.

Helena took his hand and spread out his fingers carefully, palm up. He frowned at her, and she waggled his smallest finger. "Yep. If she's got your hands, then I hope you're flexible. You'll need to be when she gets you wrapped around her little finger." She smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek before she headed over to remind her brother to not wind the kids up too much, even if she knew it was a waste of breath.

"I hope whatever secret Kory is spilling is one you weren't planning on hiding, _mein Freund_ ," a new voice rang out as Kate and Kurt made their appearance known, dusting off the snow from their boots in the doorway and wrapped up in each other as usual.

"Nope," Logan said as he turned toward the two of them. "I was just tellin' her I wasn't goin' back.."

Kurt broke into a wide, relieved grin — especially since his hints that Logan needed to find his own peace had been about as subtle as a steamroller. "I'm glad to hear it," Kurt said before he slipped over in a blink to pull Logan into a hug. "Welcome home — and happy birthday. I believe you owe me a drink."

"Of course that's the first thing you think of, Elf," Logan said, hugging Kurt tightly. "I got a bottle with your name on it at the bar."

"No one can say that you're not prepared, _mein Freund_."

"For an overdue drink? Damn well better not. And as far as anything else goes … Grayson'll fill you in if you're lookin' for gossip," Logan said.

"Aww, we don't get to hear it from you?" Kate teased as she bounced over. "We don't rate a personal spilling of secrets? Rude."

"I'm retired now. I don't _have_ any secrets, Katie," Logan said as he kissed her cheek. "And Grayson's the one with the trail of kids followin' him now. I guess Kory thought he needed to know there'll be one more little girl that oughta be here 'round the beginning of the year."

Both Kate and Kurt froze, nearly identical expressions of surprise flitting over both of their faces, before they broke into delighted grins. Kurt hugged Logan first, because he was already there, but Kate jumped in to make it a group hug, not about to wait until the boys were done.

"Congratulations!" she gushed, with Kurt echoing the sentiment in both English and German.

"She ain't here yet," Logan said. "We got a little time. But thanks, all the same." He gestured to where Skye was sitting with Coulson, May, and a very excited Fitzsimmons. "You wanna spoil Skye a little, she won't complain."

"She looks spoiled enough already," Kurt teased. "Look at Coulson! He's the proudest grandfather already."

"And he says he doesn't play favorites," Logan said in a low chuckle.

"He so totally does," Kate agreed, then kissed Logan's cheek for good measure. "I'm _super_ psyched for you, though! The world needs more awesome girls in it."

"Can't argue when you're right," Logan said. "It'll be good to see how Peggy handles things. Probably have the whole organization running like clockwork inside of six months."

"Yeah, duh. They should have gotten a girl to run things _ages_ ago," Kate said, rolling her eyes.

Logan nodded his agreement. "Why do you think I picked her to replace me?"

"Because she's amazing and could kick anyone's butt nine ways to Arcadia and still look flawless?" Kate said.

Logan smirked. "I liked the story about the stapler. Gotta love a girl that improvises weaponry."

" _Yes!_ " Kate giggled. "Steve told me that one — well, he told me about it after he got over tripping over himself trying to apologize for the way we left things in the Games. I still don't think he's entirely comfortable with me, you know, but he's great for talking up Peggy."

"He's not exactly relaxed around me either, but I think it helped when I pulled Peggy into runnin' things," Logan said.

"He has a soft spot for all the right reasons," Kurt said, smiling as he kept close to Logan but put his arm around Kate, not-so-subtly playing with her left hand with his.

Logan had just poured himself a fresh drink but had caught the little motion. "Yeah, yeah. I've seen it."

Kate placed her hand on Kurt's shoulder, wiggling her fingers so the stones had light dancing off of them. "I'm going to go give our congratulations to Skye. I can't believe you two managed to keep that a secret for eight months."

"We _are_ spies," Logan replied. "Or were."

"Very fair," Kate shot over her shoulder as she walked away. As she departed, Kurt looked back at Logan, his face looking sore from the smile he was wearing.

"This is truly wonderful, Logan. I'm so happy for you. Have you thought about names yet?"

"I'm goin' along with whatever she wants," Logan replied.

"Always a solid plan," Kurt chuckled. "Does _Skye_ have any names in consideration?"

Logan turned to watch Kate and Skye — as Kate nearly bowled Coulson out of her way to snuggle in and make a fuss. "She was thinkin' about Daisy."

"That'll be lovely," Kurt mused, watching the women as well.

"Wasn't tryin' to keep it secret from you," Logan said. "I was just busting my backside tyin' up a few loose ends before we left the Capitol."

"Entirely understandable. Amanda and Stefan told me all about the situation with the preacher," Kurt said. "Nasty business that hit a little close to home in more ways than one."

"He won't be a problem anymore," Logan promised. "Handled it myself."

"That's usually how problems that cross your path end up," Kurt teased.

"If you want it done right …" Logan was shaking his head as he pulled a glass over for Kurt. "Guess I'm bartender tonight."

"Cheers to that," Kurt agreed, taking the offered glass. "Which reminds me—" He raised his glass and his voice as a means to catch Peter's attention, who turned their way and grinned on seeing the group. "How's the politician's wife handling things? I only saw Gwen from time to time during the holidays."

"She keeps him busy playin' house," Logan agreed.

"The politician's _husband_ ," Peter said as he came toward them, "is running a school. Jeez. You think you'd keep track of who's shaping the next generation."

"I only bothered with the ones that needed their asses kicked," Logan said without missing a beat.

Peter shook his head at that. "If your kid gets any of _Skye's_ smarts, send her my way, huh?"

"It'd be her call," Logan said. "Though if Stark's little venture pays off, you might be wrestlin' with him when the time comes."

"Tony's mostly working with kids who graduate from _my school_. Get it straight, you grumpy badger," Peter laughed.

"Not the way _he_ talks," Logan said, smirking because he knew this was news to Peter. "Stark's been checking out the kids that are _under_ graduating age, too. Guy knows how to spot potential."

"Poaching!" Peter said, putting one hand over his heart and looking perfectly affronted.

"Like that's a shock," Logan said, smirking as he handed Peter a drink too — pouring another round for the three of them, though Peter looked leery.

Kurt raised his glass, and the others tentatively followed suit. "To Team Awesome," he said. "From battling the arena to raising families, we've done it all."

"That really wasn't a thing, Elf," Logan said, shaking his head after they took their shots — and Peter started coughing and gagging.

"Don't let Kate hear you say that," Kurt said with a smirk as he poured one more shot. "Which reminds me: I'm should deliver my congratulations to Skye in person." He raised his glass once more before disappearing into the crowd.

Peter watched Kurt go, though as he turned to say something to Logan, he caught sight of Benji hanging halfway off the staircase and quickly set his glass down to rush off and catch him, with Logan watching mildly as Peter managed to scoop up his son before he could fall.

Someone behind Logan cleared their throat, a sound that managed to sound apologetic for interrupting while still catching Logan's attention. He turned to find Bruce Banner wearing a solemn expression and looking almost sheepish for simply existing.

"Good to see you, Logan. I, ah, I heard you stepped down from the directorship." Bruce swallowed and offered Logan his hand. "Thank you for your service."

Logan took Banner's hand, whose grip was always surprisingly strong.. "Right. _Service_. Is the family here?"

Banner took off his glasses and fiddled with them absently. "No, not today. I just wanted…" He paused, shook his head, and put his glasses back on, focusing on Logan with bright intensity. "It's amazing, isn't it? That we're here at all? After all … everything." Banner's dark eyes were shining as he searched Logan's face. But the almost manic expression Banner was wearing _was not_ something Logan was entirely comfortable with. "Everywhere I look, I see a past I'm trying to forget and a future I can hardly believe. How often do you become allies — _friends_ , even — with someone who you fought to the death?" He shrugged thoughtfully. "It's a lot to process."

"Better to leave it in the past," Logan said quietly. The corner of his mouth quirked up, and he added, "Leave it to you to get philosophical over a little brouhaha." He reached across the table to pull over a glass and pour Banner a drink — since he _was_ bartending, apparently. "For your _service_ , Banner."

Banner accepted it with a smile and looked down. "Yeah, well. Everyone's got to do what they've got to do." He took a calm breath and laughed. "Happy Birthday, Logan. I hope you find real happiness. You deserve it."

"You too, Banner. Cheers."

They clinked glasses and drank. After the first pull, Banner cringed. "Woo. What kind of whiskey is this?" He sipped a bit deeper as Logan pushed the bottle toward him so he could inspect it for himself, which of course he did, looking over the top of his glasses to read the label. "By the way, if you need any tips for raising little _girls_ … I haven't a clue."

"Wouldn't ask anyhow. Still can't figure out why the hell everyone keeps handing me their babies. At this point, I'm just runnin' with it," Logan said then gestured to where Dick was still letting the kids run him over. "Got a little jungle gym for 'er when she's ready."

Banner watched Dick and his entourage for a moment with a muted smile and chuckled. "Can Kory handle another kid? Besides Grayson, I mean?"

"She seems to think so," Logan said. "I'm not gonna argue with her."

"Smart," Banner said, sipping the whiskey once more. "By the way, Logan, kids are amazing. Just… amazing. You're going to be a great father."

"Yeah, right. Pretty sure I'm fightin' genetics on that."

"Hey, I had the same worries. Luckily, the kid didn't."

"Sure," Logan said before he tipped his glass up and took a deep drink. "I'm just waitin' to see how much trouble keeps followin' me before I know if I can manage not to screw 'em up or _worse_." He frowned as he thought about all the attempts on his life over the past five years or so and how, as time went on, the severity of those threats outweighed the number of attacks. And there was no way of knowing if it was going to follow him after he'd walked away from SHIELD.

"We can only do our best." Banner turned as a fresh peal of laughter came from the children. "But even if we did our worst… look at the great friends they have already. They don't have to go to some stupid arena to find them."

Logan followed Banner's gaze, nodding to himself. "You should bring 'em by next time they do somethin' like this. The staff at the old estate goes all out for the holidays for the orphans."

Banner was nodding. "You know, it might be nice to give the annual Games a new meaning. Make it a reunion. Our kids would only know it as something wonderful."

"Figured you knew by now that I'll go along with just about anything you and your buddy Stark come up with," Logan said. For those in the know, it had been a badly kept secret that Banner and Stark got a green light from SHIELD for almost anything they proposed, and Logan still wasn't about to stop that as long as no one was getting hurt.

"Perfect." Bruce held up his glass in a toast. "Next summer, we host at Tony's. SI has a huge campus, and I'm betting Cassie could set up a daycare center to let the adults take a moment." He chuckled softly as the whiskey started to kick in. "Looks like we're gonna need one."

"Sounds like," Logan agreed as the two of them settled in with their drinks, watching the crowd, though their silence wasn't broken — even when Skye made her way over to join the two of them in their people watching, leaning on Logan as the party went on. It was a companionable kind of quiet in their little corner as the party went on around them.

The teasing was flowing as freely as the spirits, though there was one last knock at the door from a pair of latecomers. Kaldur Ahm and Bobby Drake waved from the doorway — Bobby cheerfully brushed the snow off while Kaldur shivered in a coat much thicker than Bobby's.

"You better get to the fire," Logan said when he saw how cold Kaldur looked, especially when he was shivering more after taking the coat off. The cabin was warm, not uncomfortably so, but it was obvious that Kaldur had been chilled more than he'd expected to be. When the pair of them were farther into the house, Skye leaned in for a quick kiss and slipped off before Logan handed Kaldur a glass of whiskey for good measure. "It's not even cold yet."

"I prefer the beaches," Kaldur said with a self-deprecating smile, even as Bobby was laughing at his expression.

"He totally lost the snowball fight," Bobby confided in Logan, then laughed a little more.

"You were expectin' that, though," Logan said.

"Oh yeah. All this time in a country full of people who know how to swim before they can walk, and now it's _my_ turn to give him flack."

"You're in the right place for snow," Logan told him. "We're just gettin' started."

" _I_ like it, but Kaldur still isn't a fan," Bobby admitted as Kaldur rolled his eyes good-naturedly and Bobby sat down beside him.

"We wanted to be here to welcome you to your new home," Kaldur said.

"We've been going from one party to the next," Bobby said. "It's been _nonstop_ lately. The big royal wedding a few months back, then there was a whole thing with my friend Warren — you know, the stylist with the big angel wings? He got engaged, then we found out you were retiring and decided to make the trip…"

"Yeah, I knew about that. Betsy's a good friend," Logan said, tipping his head to where Betsy Braddock was chatting with Kate and Jubilee. "I was a little caught up with other business when their party happened." He frowned to himself as he thought about that little debacle just a few days earlier. The hate-speech slinging preacher in what used to be Nine _had_ been preaching against Tahiti kids. It had been worth skipping the party. "But … I didn't tell anyone but my wife, Peggy, and Steve that I retired." Logan looked between the two of them. "So who spilled?"

"Skye," both Kaldur and Bobby said at the same time.

"After Betsy and Warren's engagement," Logan said with a nod, realizing just then that Skye had to have been pulling this birthday/retirement/housewarming party together while he crashed for three days solid. "She's been busy."

"Very," Kaldur said before he shook his head and then reached into his coat to pull out a small box. "And knowing you were coming to a new home, I felt I needed to give you something."

Logan raised an eyebrow at that but took the box all the same. ""You didn't have to do anything," he said, pausing for just a moment before he opened it to reveal a conch shell.

"It's tradition," Kaldur insisted firmly. "When Atlanteans find new homes, they always take a piece of the ocean into their home. Perhaps the tradition doesn't quite fit here, when your home is in the trees, but the symbolism, I think, still stands: you have something that reminds you of the greater power of your home, not just the walls around you."

Logan smirked at that. "Thanks." He shifted to set the shell down on the mantle and then offered Kaldur his hand. "I'm glad to see you gettin' out, too."

Kaldur's smile tightened for only a moment before Bobby knocked shoulders with him, and he shook his head and then took Logan's hand. "It hasn't been an easy path," he admitted. "But it's worth it to see my home united — and to make sure my people feel secure in their future. But it is good to see old friends, too."

"From what I've seen, and all I know, Arcadia's doin' fine," Logan said. "And as I've been told a few million times, you need to take a break now and again."

"What a coincidence. That's as many times as I've told _him_ that," Bobby said in mock surprise, getting a dry but affectionate look from Kaldur.

Logan watched them for a moment as they teased each other. "Don't do what I did and burn yourself out at twenty-five, if you can help it."

"I'll keep that in mind," Kaldur promised.

"And I," Bobby said, grabbing Kaldur by the arm, "will keep you busy. Come on. Looks like the party's rocking."

Logan took a moment to watch them go, hand-in-hand, into the crowd of people that were all mulling about and smiling. Susie Hunter had been chasing Shogo around, following him step for step and giggling every time he did something to show off — which was often. But their little puppy love flirtation was interrupted when Barbara Gordon picked her up and swung her upside down — tickling her mercilessly and inadvertently drawing the attention of the other kids in the house, who all abandoned Dick for Barbara and Scotty Summers.

There was an almost breathless 'Oh. Of course' from Dick as the kids slipped away, though Kory stepped in with Mari and put an end to his moping quickly. Everyone, it seemed, was finally starting to live normal lives, and that, more than anything else, was exactly what Logan needed to see after being entrenched in spywork and politics — and all the other things that marked the worst of humanity.

Logan kicked himself away from the fireplace, catching a few little sung-out ' _hap-py birth-daaay_ 's from Shogo and Merree — which were echoed by the other little kids as he passed. He made sure to mess up their hair as thanks — and to get their parents riled. The house was fairly full, and conversation flowed freely from one group to the next.

But it wasn't until the crowd started to thin that Logan had his last visitor for the evening. Bruce Wayne stepped up beside him and wordlessly pulled him into a deep, long hug. He didn't say anything until Logan started to pull back, and then Bruce muttered a quiet, "Welcome home" that had Logan relaxing into the hug for just a moment longer.

* * *

 **Credits**

* * *

 **Founder**

 **Nickenny**

* * *

 **Editors and Captains at the Helm**

 **robbiepoo2341 and Canucklehead Cowgirl**

* * *

 **Cast**

 **Kaldur Ahm, Dick Grayson, Kate Bishop - robbiepoo2341**

 **Harper Row - pekuxumi**

 **Sinthea Schmidt - Silmarilz1704**

 **Logan Howlett, Tony Stark, Harley Quinn, Wade Wilson - Canucklehead Cowgirl**

 **Kara Danvers, Kurt Wagner - Ophelia Claire**

 **Diana Prince, Ororo Munroe - InDeepDarkWood**

 **Jason Todd, Timothy Drake - Savy160**

 **Bruce Banner, Helena Wayne - Miran Anders**

 **Jade Nguyen - tvfan69**

 **Pamela Isley - Abby Well**

 **John Constantine - Bstnstrng13**

 **Kory Anders - Unlucky Alis**

 **Other supporting characters were brought to you**

 **by Canucklehead Cowgirl and robbiepoo2341**

* * *

 **While it's always a shame for any project to come to a close, the great part about collaborative work is that we get to introduce ourselves to each other and to new readers. So while we will always welcome readers and re-readers, we'd highly encourage you to check out the profiles of all the writers who participated in this. (Please go to the author taglines for all three books! This is really just the credits for the third book, honestly.) A lot of us have projects both here on this site and in real life, and if you like what we did here, you can bet we're still doing it in style elsewhere.**

 **Thanks for reading!**


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